


The Long Weekend

by MsBrooklyn



Series: Assembly Line (or Why It's a Lot Harder than Steve Thought to Recruit New Members) [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Ultimateverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Earth 1610, Fluff, Gen, Ultimate Spider-Man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:52:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4745330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrooklyn/pseuds/MsBrooklyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve decides that he, Bucky and Peter need a weekend of male bonding and comes up with a plan -- camping.  This is the unapologetic account of three native New Yorkers (two super soldier men out of time and one boy who's never been out of New York City) and their trip to see the Grand freaking Canyon.</p><p> </p><p>Written by popular demand for something that gives our characters a break from HYDRA, AIM and the insanity that goes on in the life of Peter Parker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
  
  
"Camping?"  Peter can't keep the skeptical tone out of his voice.  "Why would you want to do that?"  
  
"Because it's a good way to...whaddayacallit...*bond*," Bucky says.  
  
Peter throws up his hands in frustration.  "Dude, you live in my house!  I'd say we're bonded."    
  
It's the disappointed look on Steve's face that does Peter in.  He's seen Steve's 'Disappointed Captain America Face' but this is a whole different level of disappointment.  This, Peter realizes, is the look that got Bucky into trouble.  More than once.  Peter should know because he's used that exact look on Bucky and he knows that Bucky is powerless when someone gives him that look.  "I thought it would be fun.  You know, just the three of us.  No world-ending crises or insane super villains.  Just us three, toasting marshmallows, having fun and spending time with each other."  
  
"Bonding," Peter says doubtfully.  
  
"Exactly," Steve agrees and his tone picks up with enthusiasm.  "Bucky and I never went camping when we were kids.  You know, the Depression and all.  We'd go to Prospect Park and pretend sometimes but my allergies were pretty bad.  Usually, we'd have to leave quickly or risk triggering an asthma attack."  
  
"But you guys were, like, in the army.  Didn't you have enough of sleeping in tents?"  It's a last ditch effort but he can see he's just struck a nerve with Bucky.  
  
"It's our chance to do it without anybody shooting at us," Steve persists and the frown on Bucky's face vanishes.  "Besides, I'd like to get out of the city, away from all the noise.  And the technology."  He glances upwards to indicate the omnipotent presence of JARVIS.  "Aunt May said it was fine and that she has your gear from the time you went camping with your uncle --"  
  
"You asked her!?"  Of course he did, Peter realizes. Steve is the 'Man with the Plan' himself.    
  
Steve nods.  "Yes, I did.  She thought it was a good way for you to spend your three-day weekend."  
  
Peter swallows.  "Uh, did she tell you what happened that one time time Uncle Ben and I went camping?"  
  
"Nope."  Bucky is smirking.  "But I know you're gonna."  
  
"That was the weekend we found out I had asthma and I had a really bad allergic reaction to poison ivy."  
  
Bucky shrugs.  "Well, now you're a super soldier, just like Stevie and me.  No more allergies, no more asthma and poison ivy's not a problem either.  Any other whinin', punk?"  
  
Peter thinks fast.  "W-we're not going to, um, hunt anything, are we?"  
  
"D'you wanna?  Stevie and me did, during the war."  
  
"No!  I'm not shooting Bambi or any of his little friends!"  
  
Bucky snorts out a laugh.  "This is gonna be fun, Stevie."  
  
Peter shudders.  "Where exactly are we going on this little adventure?"  
  
"Ever been to the Grand Canyon?" Steve asks.  
  
"Dude, I've only been out of the Tri-State area once," Peter tells him, "And that was when they were making that stupid Spider-man movie.  Doc Ock kidnapped me and took me to Brazil.  I had to stow away on a flight to Newark to get home.  In a luggage compartment."  
  
Steve and Bucky exchange looks but it's Bucky who speaks first.  "Well, there you go, punk.  You need a vacation."  
  
"B-but *camping* --"  
  
"You're gonna love it."  
  
He's doomed.  
  
  
  
  
00000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
The drive to Grand Canyon Village is pleasant.  Steve is settled behind the wheel, there's a CD playing of Ella Fitzgerald singing her way through what apparently is now the 'Great American Songbook' and he's enjoying seeing Arizona for the first time in decades.  Pepper had been kind enough to fly them out here in Tony's private jet and she even arranged for this car and all the necessary permits.  Steve had no idea that permits were even required for camping or that there were so many of them until he started researching to plan the trip.  
  
He spent the flight briefing Peter and Bucky about his plan for their hike to the South Rim and the horrified look on Peter's face hadn't gone unnoticed.  Steve wasn't sure if it was the idea of hiking or swimming that worried Peter.  It certainly couldn't be the height.  Bucky, on the other hand, grew more enthusiastic with each phase of Steve's plan.  
  
They pull into the parking lot for the restaurant that Steve selected during his planning.  "Do I even need to ask if either of you are hungry?"  
  
Peter gets out of the car but doesn't move.  
  
"What's wrong?" Bucky asks.  
  
"It's..."  He gestures vaguely, his expression slightly panicked.  
  
"Wide open space," Bucky finishes for him.  "You shoulda seen me during Basic.  First time I'd ever been outta Brooklyn.  I thought New Jersey was wilderness.  Then I saw the woods in Germany."  
  
Steve doesn't breathe for a moment.  "You remember...?"  
  
"Little bit."  Bucky shrugs and then quickly changes the subject by grabbing Peter in a headlock.  "The fresh air ain't gonna kill you, Petey."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"That's the last of the whinin', punk," Bucky warns him, giving him a little shake.  "I mean it.  Stevie went to a lotta trouble settin' this weekend up for us.  What were you gonna be doin' otherwise, huh?  Keepin' your nose stuck in some science books and tinkering in your basement?"  
  
"Well, I --"  
  
"The Grand freaking Canyon, Petey."    
  
"But --"  
  
"Three super soldiers and the Grand freaking Canyon."  Bucky lets that sink in for a moment.  "Other tourists, they have to use fancy climbin' gear and they have all kinds of limitations.  The three of us?  The fun we can have?"  
  
"I suppose."  
  
"And it's all you can eat pancakes in this restaurant," Steve adds, quickly changing to the subject to one of Peter's favorites.  "You love pancakes."  
  
"Well, sure, who doesn't but --"  
  
"There you go," Bucky concludes.  
  
"But --"  
  
"No.  More.  Whinin'."  Eyes narrowed, Bucky fixes Peter with the same look he used to give Steve whenever Steve tried to get out of double dates or other Bucky-engineered activities that Steve was sure he'd hate.  The look has the same effect on Peter.  Peter's shoulders slump in defeat.  "Now tell Stevie you're sorry and you're gonna have fun this weekend."  
  
"I'm sorry and I'm going to try to --"  
  
"No," Bucky interrupts sternly.  "Not try.  You.  Are.  Gonna.  Have.  Fun.  Got it?"  
  
"I'm going to have fun this weekend," Peter recites obediently.  
  
Steve can almost hear himself apologizing to Bucky and promising to have fun on whatever hellish date he'd set up this time.  He echoes Bucky's usual response.  "Of course you will, punk."  
  
Peter's eyes grow wide.  "Y-you called me..."  
  
"You're acting like a punk," Steve shrugs and winks at Bucky, who shoots him a devil-may-care-Bucky grin that makes him nearly choke up with nostalgia.  "Welcome to a weekend of camping with Stevie and Bucky, punk."  
  
"Oh dear God...  I'm doomed."  
  
  
000000000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"A bat."  Barnes savors the taste of the beer and listens to the sounds of night in the desert.  He pretends not to notice Petey scooting closer to him and offers him the bottle.  "Want a sip?"  
  
"He's underage, Buck," Stevie says.  He's roasting a marshmallow and he's got the goofiest grin on his face.  It's his third attempt after losing the first marshmallow in the fire and burning the second.  The third time is apparently the charm because he pulls the marshmallow out of the fire and takes a bite.  "'S good."  
  
Peter cocks his head.  "You've had marshmallows before, right?"  
  
"Uh-uh," Stevie tells him.  "Depression, remember?  Then the war.  And then..."  He shrugs.  "How about you, Buck?"  
  
Barnes thinks for a minute.  "None that I'd wanna remember, let's put it that way.  What about you, Petey?"  
  
"You know the fireplace in my living room?  Uncle Ben would toast them there, usually during Christmas but every now and again, he'd do it during the summer.  It drove Aunt May crazy.  Or she pretended it did.  I think she kind of liked it."  He smiles and tilts his head back to look up the stars.  "He used to say that if there were things we enjoyed doing, things that made us happy then we should do them whenever we wanted, seasons be damned, because life is short.  Aunt May used to scold him for swearing but...  He was right.  I... I don't think we roasted enough marshmallows together."  
  
Stevie reaches over and ruffles Peter's hair and Barnes knows what he's thinking.  "I never knew my dad and my ma, she worked as a nurse to support us.  Most of the time, she was too tired from workin' extra shifts to spend a lot of time with me but she'd read to me when I was sick.  No matter how tired she was.  We didn't get to spend enough time together either."  
  
Barnes takes another swallow of beer.  "I had a sister, right?"  
  
"You did," Stevie tells him.  "Rebecca."  
  
He thinks he remembers her a little but no stories come to mind.  Barnes' eyes wander over to Petey and then to Stevie.  "Any of them biographies mention how I met Stevie, punk?"  
  
"No."  Petey is instantly alert.  
  
"Aw, c'mon, Buck," Stevie protests.  The marshmallow he was toasting falls into the fire and Barnes smirks.  It's nice to see that the great Captain America isn't perfect at everything.  
  
"It's the first week of school," Barnes begins, "and this little jerk comes to school wheezin' and coughin' and so scrawny a stiff breeze'll blow him on his bony little ass.  You know what that means, right?"  
  
Petey nods.  "Instant target."  
  
"Instant target," Barnes confirms.  "The bully was a kid named Frankie Twomey.  His dad was a beat cop in the neighborhood.  Big bull of a man and Frankie's a chip off the old block and twice as mean as his old man.  Frankie's this big kid, a year older'n both of us on account of he got left back in first grade."  Barnes blinks because, God, this memory is vivid.  He hopes to hell it's real.  "Frankie takes one look at Stevie and thinks, here's an entire school year of entertainment.  So he goes up to Stevie and says, gimme your lunch."  
  
"What'd Stevie do?" Petey asks, just like Barnes knew he would.    
  
The same way Falsworth did.  Barnes blinks at that sudden memory and puts the thought aside for later.  "Stevie told him to get lost."  
  
"And then he shoved me, so I kicked him in the balls," Stevie adds.    
  
"I'm over on the other end of the school yard, playin' potsie --"  
  
"You were what?!"  
  
"A game.  Kind of like... uh, hopscotch," Stevie explains to Petey.  "They still play that, right?"  
  
Petey shrugs.  "I think so."  
  
Barnes blows out a frustrated breath because how the hell is he supposed to tell a story with these two and their interrupting?  "So I'm playin' potsie and I hear shouting about a fight and so of course we all gotta go see who Frankie's beatin' on now.  It's not even a fight.  Stevie's half Frankie's size and the little punk refuses to go down.  He's got a bloody nose, his shirt's torn and he can't throw a punch to save his life but he's not quittin'.  And it's making Frankie crazy."  
  
"So Bucky steps in and lays Frankie out with one punch," Stevie finishes.  
  
"And we introduce ourselves and then Stevie tells me what happened.  So I ask him, why didn't ya just give him your damn lunch?"  
  
"He did.  Seven years old and Bucky could swear like a sailor."  
  
Barnes shoots him a look.  "Are you tellin' this story or am I?"  
  
Stevie mimes zipping his lips.  
  
Satisfied, Barnes turns back to Petey.  "Stevie looks up at me with those big blue eyes, one of 'em halfway swelled shut by this point, and tells me, I couldn't give him my lunch.  I ain't got one."  
  
"A lot of kids couldn't afford to bring lunch.  They ate maybe a meal or two a day," Stevie explains to Petey.  "Bucky met me at lunch time and let me have half of his.  We've been friends ever since."  
  
"What ever happened to Frankie Twomey?" Barnes wonders.  
  
"Got sent up to Sing Sing for armed robbery and aggravated assault in 1937," Steve tells him.  "Died there in 1939."  
  
Barnes raises his beer in a silent toast and then he says it anyway.  "Good riddance to bad rubbish."  
  
"I certainly didn't shed any tears," Stevie shrugs.  He shoots a pointed look at Petey.  "This is why I tell you not to worry so much about that Flash Thompson character.  Life has a way of sorting his kind out."  
  
"It burns Petey to have to pretend he's weak," Barnes says.  
  
"I know it does."  
  
"I'm sitting right here."  Petey waves his hand.  "Did I ever mention how I got even by taking Flash's spot on the basketball team?"  
  
"No," Barnes tells him.  "You did not."  
  
"You're going to," Stevie adds.  
  
"First, Captain America and Winter Soldier dude," Petey says, reaching for his backpack, "I'm going to teach you how to make s'mores."  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The basketball and wrestling stories come from the Great Responsbility arc of Ultimate Spider-man.

Chapter 2  
  
  
"I have found the weapon that can take out Captain America and the Winter Soldier and it is the s'more," Peter announces dramatically.  "HYDRA would pay me a fortune for that information, by the way.  Seriously."  
  
Bucky's eyes are closed and he's moaning with pleasure as he chews.    
  
Peter finishes making another s'more and hands it to an eager Steve.  "We're going to run out of marshmallows if you two don't slow down."  
  
That gets Bucky's attention.  "I know you, Stevie.  You brought a back up bag."  
  
"I did," Steve confirms.  "But those are for tomorrow."  
  
"Okay, then," Peter tells them both.  "I guess I need to put the chocolate and the graham crackers away."  
  
Bucky's head whips in Peter's direction.  "One more."  
  
"Tomorrow," Peter counters and then he catches Steve's disappointed expression.  They're like big kids.  Big, indestructible kids.  "Both of you."  
  
"Seventy years," Bucky cajoles, pulling his face into a wounded, wide-eyed expression.  "They fed me nutrition shakes, Petey.  Bland, flavorless nutrition shakes.  Seventy years of 'em.  Are you really gonna deny me, America's longest serving prisoner of war, a lousy s'more?"  
  
"Are you really using your tragic history to bargain for a friggin' s'more?" Peter asks incredulously.  Like he even needs to ask.  He's sitting right here, witnessing it firsthand.  
  
Steve is smirking and Peter is positive it's the first time he's ever seen *that*.  "That, young Peter, is the Bucky Barnes I grew up with."  
  
"How do you think I got us extensions on rent, half price bread, extra vegetables and a double date with the Feeney sisters, punk?" Bucky shoots back.  He's smirking too and for the first time since Peter's known him, he looks young.  Happy.  
  
So of course Peter makes him a s'more.  Because, hello.  Happy Bucky.  "Last one, Buckinator."  
  
"You're a good kid, Petey."  Bucky ruffles Peter's hair and then emits an almost lewd-sounding moan as he takes a bite of the s'more.  And then Bucky takes it there.  "These things are better'n sex."  
  
Peter and Steve blush identical shades of red but thankfully it's almost too dark to tell.  
  
Bucky, on the other hand, can tell.  Still, he lets them both off the hook.  "At least, what I remember about sex."  
  
"Bucky was," Steve says slowly, and Peter cannot believe that *Steve* is the one who's not letting the subject go, "what you kids today call a player."  
  
"Petey's too young for this conversation," Bucky growls.  
  
Steve throws back his head and laughs.  "You blinked."  
  
"Punk!"  
  
"Jerk!"  Steve elbows Peter and grins.  "Verbal chicken.  One of Bucky's favorite games."  
  
"You usually lost."  Bucky licks his fingers and eyes the bag of marshmallows.  
  
Steve stuffs the bag back into his backpack, which makes Bucky whine with disappointment.  "Okay, Parker.  You've held out long enough.  Tell us the basketball story."  
  
Peter passes Bucky a graham cracker, earning him a pleased smile from the super soldier and an eye roll from Steve.  "The story actually begins right after the spider bit me.  So, um, the first thing that happened after that was --"  
  
"You threw up," Bucky says.  
  
"You fainted," Steve corrects Bucky.  
  
"Both and no, that's not what I mean," Peter tells them indignantly.  "After that.  Like the next day at school.  Everyone was making fun of me for throwing up and fainting, not unlike you two jackasses."  He narrows his eyes at them but neither looks particularly sorry.  In fact, they look like they're having the time of their lives at his expense. "Anyway, the day before, my Spidey sense kicked in for the first time and I threw Kong on his ass when he went to give me a locker knocker.  I also learned I could stick to surfaces.  But this... This was the day my muscles went absolutely bonkers.  Like, I'm sitting in history class, where we were, ironically, studying the Great Depression, and BAM!"  
  
"Bam?" Bucky asks exchanging confused looks with Steve.  
  
"Bam.  I broke my desk."  Peter shrugs.  "Like every muscle in my body went nuts and I just... uh, broke the desk.  What?  You didn't go through something similar?"  
  
Steve rubs his chin.  "It all happened at once.  I think that was the Vita Rays."  
  
Bucky looks down.  "I don't remember."  
  
"I do.  You had hot and cold flashes for two weeks after I pulled you out of Krausberg.  Even then you never told me about the serum."  Steve frowns.  "And I was always so used to thinking of you as being strong, I didn't notice that you were the only Howlie who could keep up with me, move for move."  
  
Peter quietly passes Bucky one of the Twix bars he'd been saving.  
  
Bucky raises an eyebrow.  "What's this?"  
  
"It's amazing," Peter assures him and hands one to Steve.  "Yes, yes, you get one too, Captain Angst."  
  
There's a crunch and a moan.  "Jesus," Bucky sighs.  "Modern food."  
  
"Modern *junk* food," Steve corrects him primly and then takes a bite of his Twix.  "Damn."  
  
Bucky lowers his chocolate.  "Okay, so the desk broke.  What happened after that, Petey?"  
  
"What do you think?  Everybody made fun of me," Peter buries his face in his hand and wonders why he thought telling this story was such a good idea.  "You know, Parker's such a spaz he falls down when he's sitting and stuff like that.  Flash, of course, was the ringleader."  
  
"Of course," Bucky agrees.  
  
"Of course," Steve echoes.    
  
Peter rolls his eyes.  "So this goes on all day, right up 'til gym class where Mr. Reynolds starts mocking me because until then, I couldn't make a basket to save my life."  
  
"So you made a basket," Bucky guesses.  
  
"No, I threw the ball right into Flash's fat head when I saw him hassling Mary Jane."  
  
"Peter!"  Steve looks horrified.  "You could have hurt him."  
  
Bucky sighs heavily.  "He didn't know that then, Stevie.  Lay off the kid.  And good for you, Petey."  
  
"Yeah," Peter agrees.  "Great for me because Reynolds threw Flash out of class but not before Flash reminded me that three o'clock was one hour away."  
  
"And?" Bucky asks, leaning forward.  
  
"I asked him if he knew what five plus four was."  
  
The two men snort with laughter.  
  
Peter grins at the memory.  "Anyway, he's waiting for me after class and I've got two new things going for me.  Spidey sense and speed.  Flash keeps swinging and missing and I keep telling him how I don't want to fight.  The idiot doesn't listen and I block his fist with my hand."  He hangs his head, suddenly remembering that he's not exactly proud of this part of the story.  "The impact broke his hand."  
  
"He asked for it," Bucky assures him and then shoots a look at Steve.  "Right?"  
  
Steve nods.  "He was being a bully."  
  
"Maybe," Peter agrees, "but then his parents gave Aunt May and Uncle Ben the twenty five hundred dollar hospital bill and said if we didn't pay, they'd sue us.  It was kind of a lousy way to figure out I had super strength."  
  
"Twenty five hundred?" Steve echoes.  
  
"Welcome to the cost of medical care in the Twenty-First Century."  Peter sighs.  "They ended up maxing out a credit card to pay it.  I felt awful because really, it was my fault."  
  
"It was that moron's fault," Bucky insists.  
  
"Still, I put my aunt and uncle into debt.  I kept thinking, there had to be a way for me to use my powers and make the money back."  He grins.  "And then I figured out how to get the money,"  
  
"Basketball?" Steve asks.  
  
"Professional wrestling."  
  
"I thought this was a story about basketball?" Bucky blinks at him.  "My memory's not that screwed up is it, Stevie?"  
  
Steve's eyes narrow in thought and then go wide.  "Wait, I remember this from your SHIELD file.  You wrestled with the UCW."  
  
Peter grins and nods.  "I did.  I made five hundred bucks taking on Crusher Hogan and they were so impressed they offered me a job."  
  
Bucky whistles.  "Five nights and the moron's bill is paid off."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"But what about the basketball?"  
  
"You know how Flash's hand was broken?  Coach Reynolds asked me to try out for Flash's spot on the basketball team.  In front of Flash.   How could I say no?"  Peter tosses another Twix to Bucky.  "Suddenly, I was hanging with the popular kids, winning games, making sick money at night as Spidey, professional wrestler.  It's like a John Hughes movie or something, right?"  
  
"I have no idea what that means," Bucky frowns.  
  
"Teen movies from the 1980s," Steve explains. "Little guy or girl from the wrong side of the tracks overcoming the snobs from the right side of the tracks.  You'd like it."  
  
Peter goggles at him.  "You..."  
  
"Loved 'Some Kind of Wonderful'," Steve tells him.  "That Watts girl was something else."  
  
Bucky snorts.  "Okay, Petey, so what went wrong?"  
  
"That's a tale for another time," Peter says. "Just say that my basketball career and my professional wrestling career crashed and burned within hours of each other and leave it at that."  
  
"Nuh-uh.  This is a *bonding* trip, Petey.  Good stuff and bad."  Bucky rummages in his own backpack and pulls out a pack of M&Ms, tossing it to Peter.  "Spill."  
  
Peter eyes the M&Ms.  "How did you know...?"  
  
"Aunt May knows everything.  And, hello, Internet."  Bucky tosses a pack of peanut butter M&Ms to Steve.  "Junk food on camping trips is mandatory."  
  
Steve reaches over and ruffles Peter's hair, then drapes an arm around his shoulders.  "Okay, so what happened to basketball and wrestling?"  
  
Peter sighs heavily.  "Somebody stole the petty cash and the manager accused me.  I think he took it himself and blamed me because I wore the mask."  
  
"Probably," Steve agrees.  "And basketball?"  
  
"My grades kind of...um... tanked.  I was going through a lot of stuff with the powers and the stress and everything --"  
  
"Of course you were," Bucky agrees.  
  
"Sure you get that but Aunt May and Uncle Ben didn't know that, right?  Uncle Ben was so disappointed in me and I was..."  Peter looks down at his hiking boots.  "I behaved like an ass, is what I did.  He wanted to know what was going on a-and I just... I took off.  Ran away. I was afraid to tell him.  I don't even know why I was afraid and when I think about it now... And then he was gone."  Peter takes a deep breath and swallows.  "I hated wrestling and I hated basketball and all I had to do was tell him what was really going on.  Why couldn't I do that?"  
   
Bucky shrugs. "Why couldn't I tell Stevie about Zola dosing me with serum?  Same reason as you.  I was scared and confused."  
  
"I thought you didn't remember," Steve says.  
  
"I don't, punk, but I think I can figure out my reasons."  He turns to Peter.  "Now, there I was.  Twenty five years old.  A grown man.  A sergeant in the Army, one of the best damn snipers going, serving on an elite squad.   *The* elite squad.  And I couldn't tell my best friend about what the shit Zola gave me was doing to my body.  Which of us should feel worse, Petey?"    
  
"Leave it to me to wreck a fun camping trip," Peter sighs, burying his face in his hand.  
  
"It's not just about fun," Steve tells him firmly.  "It's about bonding.  The three of us have so much in common besides the serum but we never really talk about unless it's in the context of HYDRA or AIM or Osborn or some other crisis.  Bucky always says that you remind him of me, Peter, but now I'm seeing that you remind me of him as well."  
  
"Our love child," Bucky laughs.  "Stark already calls him that, in case you didn't know."  
  
Steve rolls his eyes. "I did not.  Remind me to humiliate him during our next training session."  
  
Peter's mouth drops.  "You're vindictive?"  
  
"He's a friggin' vindictive *troll*," Bucky snorts.  "Don't let the stars and stripes fool you.  Steve Rogers is not the model of perfection he'd like you to believe.  The mouth on this guy and the lack of common sense alone should give you a clue."  
  
"Lack of common sense?  H-he's Captain America."  
  
"He's the dope who jumps out of airplanes without parachutes."  Bucky narrows his eyes at Steve.  "Did it ever occur to you that you might just go splat?"  
  
Steve looks unconcerned. "Nope."  
  
"Take it from a guy who lost an arm."  Bucky waggles his metallic fingers at Steve.  "Splat is possible.  Even for a super soldier."  He turns his attention back to Peter.  "See?  No common sense.  All his planning, tell him there's a bully and off he runs.  Half-cocked and flingin' his damn shield."  
  
"I always wanted to know."  Peter leans towards Steve.  "What gave you the idea to throw the shield?  I mean, they're supposed to be protection, not weapons."  
  
Steve shrugs.  "I just did it.  Howard told me it was indestructible so throwing it seemed like a good idea."  
  
"And how many times have you almost *lost* the shield, punk?" Bucky demands.  
  
"Just that once in the Potomac when you tried to kill me.  Jerk."  
  
"God, are you ever gonna let me hear the end of that?  I was bein' mind-controlled!"  
  
"Hey!" Peter digs out the graham crackers.  "Who wants another s'more?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
  
  
They started out on opposite sides of the campfire but some time during the night, Peter and Bucky ended up snuggled up against each other.  It doesn't surprise Steve.  Bucky tends to stay close to Peter when he's awake.   What does surprise Steve is the contented, peaceful look on Bucky's face.  He hasn't seen that look since before the war, when he was the one who snuggled with Bucky in their drafty, cold tenement apartment.  
  
So of course he has to sketch the pair of them.  He's deep in concentration, getting the shadows cast by the early morning light just right when he hears the rapid clicking of a camera shutter.  Steve looks up to see Peter, holding what looks like an expensive camera and grinning.  Bucky is looking over Peter's shoulder at Steve, nodding approvingly.  
  
"I want a copy of that," Bucky tells Peter.  
  
Peter does something and shows Bucky the back of the camera, which Steve realizes must be digital.  "There's a few.  Which one do you like best?"  
  
"That one."  
  
"You can have it," Peter tells him slowly, "but I'm going to want photos of the two of you later.  You're going to want photos of the two of you.  I should have tried to take some last night, actually."  
  
"Show Stevie," Bucky orders.  
  
"Have you noticed," Steve asks with a grin, "how bossy he is before he's had coffee?"  
  
"Dude, he's bossy *after* coffee."  Peter settles next to Steve, starts to hold out the camera and whistles appreciatively when he sees the sketch that Steve was working on.  "You're really talented."  
  
"I'm not --"  
  
"You are, you dumb punk," Bucky growls, pouring himself some coffee.  "Never could take praise very well, could you?"  
  
Steve flips a few pages back in the sketch book and shows Peter one of his more recent favorites.  It's a cartoon of Peter in his costume, hugging Bucky in his Winter Soldier gear.  Bucky's chin is resting atop Peter's masked head, his eyes are closed and his mouth is curved in a contented smile.  
  
"I'm not that small," Peter says, frowning down at the sketch. "Am I?"  
  
"I hate to break it to you," Steve tells him, "but you really are."  
  
Bucky crouches next to them.  "I want a copy of that, too, Stevie."  
  
Steve flips to another page where there are some rough sketches of Peter as Spidey in a number of impossible looking poses.  "I haven't been able to get these quite right from memory because you're usually moving so quickly but you have so much grace to your movements.  As much or even more than Natasha, I think."  
  
Peter taps one of the drawings thoughtfully with his index finger and then scrolls through the memory of his camera.  "Is this what you were trying to capture?"  
  
It's an action shot and Peter's legs are raised elegantly as he swings by a web line over...  "What is that?"  
  
"Nothing," Peter says hastily, tugging the camera away from Steve's hands.  
  
Steve frowns, trying to identify the thing Peter was fighting in the photo.  "That looked like a..."  
  
"Monster," Bucky supplies.  "An oozing black monster.  What the hell was that, Petey?"  
  
Peter avoids Steve's gaze.  "It's too early for that particular Spidey story, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Steve relents and flips to another page in his sketchbook, holding it out for Peter to see.  He almost passes this particular page by but they're supposed to be bonding and that means discussing sensitive subjects too.  Besides, maybe this will encourage Peter to explain about what Steve is now thinking of as the black slime monster.  "These were the Howlies.  Dugan.  Morita.  Falsworth.  Jones.  Dernier.  And Bucky."  
  
"I guess you know about them from your history books," Bucky says wistfully.  
  
Peter flushes slightly.  "Well, yeah.  And movies, too."  
  
"The ones where I'm Stevie's sidekick."  Bucky rolls his eyes at this and then he grins slyly at Steve.  It's a grin that heralds trouble and one that Steve didn't ever think he'd see again.  "You know, we oughtta stick Petey in that godawful red, white and blue Bucky outfit that everyone swears is historically accurate and send him out with you, Stevie.  Give you a real life teenage sidekick."  
  
Steve snorts with laughter.  "Could you imagine me going after a HYDRA operation with him dressed like that? It would almost be worth it to see the looks on their faces."  
  
"Or one of Stark's stupid press conferences," Bucky suggests, sniggering.  
  
"Oh God, no.  The child welfare groups would eat me alive," Steve protests.  
  
"I'd do it.  Just one time, mind you," Peter says quietly.    
  
Steve raises an eyebrow at the boy's serious tone. "You would?"  
  
"Oh come on.  Every kid, like, ever, wanted to be Bucky."  Peter's cheeks are bright red as he says it and ducks his head in embarrassment.  "Who wouldn't want to be Captain America's buddy?"  
  
"Now you gotta do it, Stevie," Bucky insists.  "How about for one of those children's charity things you do?"  
  
Jesus.  Now Steve is blushing.  "Peter, are you sure?"  
  
Peter nods. "Absolutely. People hate Spider-man but they friggin' love Bucky Barnes."  
  
Bucky's cheeks go pink and he coughs.  "That may not be so true anymore."  
  
That sobers Steve as he thinks about Peter in that silly costume.  "You know, Peter, it might actually help Bucky's image if...  Not that I'd expect you to, of course... But with some of the negative Winter Soldier publicity --"  
  
"Dude, I said I'd do it."  
  
"Talk to Pepper first," Bucky suggests.  "Make sure it's a good idea before this little punk steals my identity."  
  
"I am *not* going to *steal* your --"  
  
"You said it yourself," Bucky cuts him off, grinning wildly and eyes sparkling with laughter.  "Everyone loves me and they hate you.  One day of bein' Bucky Barnes and you will never put those webs back on.  Especially when the girls start throwin' themselves at you."  
  
The camera in Peter's hand whirs and clicks rapidly and then Peter smiles triumphantly as he inspects the results.  Leaning over, he shows the images to Steve.  There are half a dozen photos of Bucky looking as carefree as Steve remembers him.  
  
Steve had been planning to sketch that from memory later on but having the moment captured in photos is priceless. "May I have copies of those?"  
  
"Which ones?"  
  
"All of them."  
  
"Lemme see," Bucky orders.  Peter starts scrolling through the images for him.  "I want this one, Petey.  I want a picture of me feelin' that much happiness for the first time in seventy goddamned years."  He grabs the boy in a headlock and plants a noisy kiss on Peter's forehead. "Thanks, Petey.  I needed to see that as much as I needed to feel it."  
  
Steve has to look down because his throat is tight and his eyes are wet.  It would be easy for him to be jealous of the affection between these two.  But he can't be that selfish.  Not when Peter is so clearly instrumental in Bucky's recovery.  Not when they obviously care so much about each other.  
  
"Oh for God's sake," Bucky growls at Steve.  "Would you two get over yourselves already?  Tell Petey he's your damn buddy, Stevie and give him a frigging hug!"  
  
The click of the camera captures the moment and then Peter snorts, "Jeez, he really is bossy before he has coffee.  Was he always this pushy?"  
  
"You have no idea," Steve tells him.    
  
With a snarl of frustration, Bucky grabs Peter by the collar and shoves him towards Steve.  "Go on, punk.  It's time for you to stop bein' afraid of Stevie."  
  
"I'm not -- " Peter starts to protest.  
  
"'Course you are," Bucky disagrees.  "You grew up thinking he's some larger than life heroic icon."  
  
"Well, he kind of is."  
  
"Well, he kind of is," Bucky mimics and rolls his eyes.  "And I'm not?  Not only am I *also* a heroic icon but I'm also a scary-as-fuck Cold War living legend.  Meanwhile, you don't have any problems talkin' to me, do ya?"  
  
"You're a little more, um..."  
  
"A little more what, punk?" Bucky challenges Peter.  
  
Steve winces inwardly.  The answer is 'damaged' but he's sure Peter knows better than to say it.  
  
"People-friendly," Peter says and Steve nearly falls over in shock.  
  
Bucky throws his hands up in the air.  "Thank you!"  He rounds on Steve.  "Did you hear him, Stevie?  What I've been tellin' ya!  You are not people-friendly."  
  
"I am so."  Aaaand here is, twelve or twenty years old all over again and being double dog dared into something by Bucky Barnes.  The hell with it.  He grabs Peter and hugs the boy.  "Are you happy now, jerk?"  
  
"Are you, punk?" Bucky shoots back.  
  
"Not happy.  Can't breathe," Peter complains, his words muffled against Steve's chest.    
  
"Shut up, punk," Steve tells him.  "I'm being people friendly."  
  
Whatever Peter was about to reply is cut off by the sound of the sputtering, smoking engine from the small charter plane that goes overhead.   It crashes less than a minute later.  
  
All three of them take off at a run.  
  
  
  
000000000000000000000  
  
  
**Hell's Kitchen Interlude**  
  
  
  
"What is this?" Jessica asks.  
  
"What does it look like?"  Matt doesn't lift his head as his fingers trace the dots on his Braille monitor.  He's working on a case.  There's a digital recorder next to his laptop and a stack of notes in Braille beside them.  
  
"It looks like a schedule.  For me."  She stares at the offending piece of paper that's stuck on the refrigerator with a magnet in the shape of the letter 'J'.  "You have my days scheduled from the minute I wake up until...  A ten p.m. bedtime?"  
  
"Only on school nights," Matt agrees.  
  
Her quest for a glass of milk forgotten, Jessica heads back to the living room sofa where Matt is working.  "What's with the schedule, Matt?"  
  
"Structure is important.  Especially for teenagers."  
  
"Aunt May never scheduled my entire day!"  
  
"Of course she didn't," he agrees easily.  "You never lived with her.  You live with me and I'm putting you on a schedule.  Dr. Robinette suggested it and I'm inclined to agree."  
  
"School, therapy, LGBT meetings, Bible study and and Thursdays after school at your office?"  Jessica's eidetic memory is more of a curse than a blessing as she recites the entries on her schedule.  
  
"You wanted youth Bible study," Matt reminds her.  "You can replace one of the LGBT groups with extracurricular activities and Thursdays are supposed to be our time.  The therapy is non-negotiable.  I worked hard screening those doctors for you."  
  
"I couldn't help but notice," Jessica says slowly, "that web-slinging isn't anywhere on that schedule."  
  
Matt's mouth curves into a smile.  "You are correct."  
  
"And why is that?" She had to pick a lawyer as a father figure, didn't she?  
  
"Because you need to discover who Jessica Drew Murdock is before you add another identity to the mix."  
  
Jessica groans as she recognizes the doctor-speak.  "Dr. Robinette?"  
  
"Yes."  And then he adds, "Our joint sessions are on Fridays."  
  
She drops to the floor, cross-legged and studies him, chin in hand.  "You're really taking this parent thing seriously."  
  
"Would you rather I didn't?"  He finally raises his head from the monitor and his fingers still.  "Would you rather this was just somewhere you came for food and a place to crash?  Where I didn't care if you got an education and had a way to support yourself when you're old enough to fend for yourself?"  
  
"I...no.  Of course not."  Such a lawyer.  
  
"And you're thinking right now, he's kicking my ass with logic because he's a lawyer."  
  
It's useless to lie but she tries it anyway.  "No --"  
  
"Of course you are."  Matt's mouth curves into a playful smile.  "Want to out-lawyer me?  Study hard.  Become smarter than me."  
  
"You want me to become a lawyer?"  
  
"I want you to become whatever you want," Matt tells her earnestly.  "But I want you to do your best.  That means homework is done before you go to bed, just like I had to do it for my father.  And just like my father, I'll be checking your work.  He did, even when my homework was in Braille."  The playful smile softens.  "Drove me crazy but God, I missed that after he was gone.  Nobody checked my homework in the orphanage."  
  
God, he's good.  Thursdays are going to be interesting, she thinks.  "Um, so no web-slinging at all for me?"  
  
Matt's head tilts slightly.  "Web-slinging on weekends and only with me."  
  
"You know, this is a three-day weekend," Jessica points out.  She doesn't add that school starts for her on Tuesday.   There's no need.  Her school uniforms are hanging in Matt's closet.  
  
"So it is."  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

  
Chapter 4  
  
  
  
  
The wreckage is smack dab in the middle of one of the many rapids around the Canyon's South Rim.  Barnes knows from Stevie's meticulous plan that this is the Crystal Rapid and they were supposed to hike down here later, maybe even raft, if they could convince Petey.  The kid has to be the most chickenshit super soldier ever, though Barnes is sure if he scratches the surface of the kid's dislike of water, Petey will have yet another head-wrecking Spidey story that explains it.  
  
Steve takes a moment to assess the best way to help the injured and concludes, "We'll have to swim over and carry them out one at -- Peter!?"  
  
Of course the kid brought a Spidey outfit and web-shooters.  Barnes has no idea where Petey found time to change into the red and blue spandex monstrosity but he's perched on a large boulder and shooting twin jets of webbing at the busted up fuselage.  The webbing flies true and Petey starts pulling the wreckage from the punishing waters towards a bend where the water is calmer.  He's braced awkwardly and Barnes is about to scold him when he realizes the kid has to do that because he's using his powers to stick to the rock while he fights with the current.  
  
"Give me those," Steve orders, coming up behind Petey and wrapping his own hands over the weblines.  "Make another set of lines for Bucky and then make a set for yourself.  We'll pull together."  
  
Barnes grabs the webs as soon as the kid shoots them and tries not to recoil at the sticky, wet sensation.  
  
Between the three of them, they manage to move the wreckage into the bend, away from the powerful current.  Without being told to do it, Petey secures the fuselage to the largest boulder he can find.  He's shaking from the adrenaline and the effort and Barnes gently starts to knead his bony little shoulders.  
  
While Petey recovers, Stevie splashes into the water and tears the door from the cabin of the plane, leaping inside to check for survivors.   He emerges a moment later with a little girl in his arms.  Petey doesn't hesitate.  Instead of diving into the water, he runs across one of the weblines and takes the girl from Steve.  His return trip is no less graceful and the little girl is completely dry, which will be one less headache for the rescue squad to deal with.  
  
Barnes can only watch.  This is the drawback to having a metal arm and a supporting bone structure that's also been replaced by metal.  Barnes isn't buoyant.  Not like a regular person.  Getting to the plane would take him twice as long as Steve and there's also the probability that he'd sink like a rock.  
  
"She's not breathing," Petey announces, handing Barnes the girl.  "You know how to do CPR, right?"  
  
His HYDRA programming must have included it because Barnes has the girl on the ground and is clearing her airway before Petey even finishes his sentence.  Maybe he's not just a useless killing machine after all.  
  
They continue like this until all five survivors are removed from the plane.  Fifteen others, including the pilot, didn't make it.  
  
Barnes is just fashioning a splint for the little girl's mother's leg when he hears the unmistakable sound of a rescue squad coming.  His head darts up and his eyes meet Stevie's.  They have a quick, silent conversation that ends with Barnes grabbing Petey, tossing him over his shoulder and hauling the kid down the trail, away from the approaching rescuers.  
  
"See that?"  Barnes points upwards.  "We're gonna climb up there and go back to our campsite to wait for Stevie.  I'll race you to see who gets there faster."  
  
"But --"  
  
"Petey."  Does he really have to explain this?  Judging by the kid's confused expression, he really does.  "It's one thing for Steve Rogers to be hiking in the Grand Canyon.  How's he supposed to explain why he's got a kid from Queens and possibly the most wanted assassin in the world with him?  And now he's gotta explain what a coincidence it was that Spider-man was here on vacation, too."  
  
Petey's shoulders slump.  "I-I'm sorry.  I didn't think."  
  
"You wanted to help those people.  I get it.  But you've gotta be smarter about protectin' your identity."  Barnes launches himself upwards and starts climbing.  This, at least, is a good use for his metal hand.  Feeling more than a little disgusted with his limitations, he mutters, "You were more of a help than I was.  All this metal I've got in me..."  
  
If Petey hears him, he doesn't say anything, which is probably for the best.  
  
They climb in silence until Barnes realizes that challenging Petey to a race climbing up a cliff was a dumb idea.  The kid sticks to all kinds of surfaces, including rock, so he leaves Barnes in the dust, with a perfect view of his scrawny little red and blue ass as it goes ever upward.  True to form, Petey snags Barnes with a web and pulls him up the rest of the way -- and then apologizes for it.    
  
"You know how I lost my arm, right?" Barnes says, surprising himself.  "I fell from a moving train down a mountain.  HYDRA conditioned the fear of heights out of me, mostly, but Petey, I'm kinda glad you helped me up.  Don't tell Stevie that, okay?  He wants to do a lot of climbing this weekend."  
  
Of course that earns him a hug.  The kid is constantly hugging him.  
  
Not that Barnes is going to complain.  Turns out, he likes being hugged.  He's pretty sure nobody ever hugged the Asset.  At least, not in a good way.  
  
When Petey pulls away, he tugs off his mask.  His eyes focus on Barnes and he's got a look that says he's trying to solve a problem.  
  
"Petey?"  
  
"The weight distribution's not even," the boy says, placing a hand gently under Barnes' cybernetic elbow.  "As lightweight as this is, it's heavier than a regular limb and then there's all the support they bolted onto you, weighing you down.  Climbing's got to put one heck of a strain on your shoulders, spine and hips --"  
  
"Stevie wants to climb," Barnes cuts him off.  He grips Petey's shoulders lightly, making sure he's got the boy's attention. "For all the time I knew him before that damn serum, Stevie couldn't run.  He couldn't climb.  Hell, most of the time, he could barely walk.  The kid was deaf in one ear, color blind, asthmatic and was sick every other day when he wasn't sick constantly.  I'm sure you read about it but that ain't the same as seeing it.  Stevie can run now.  For miles.  He wants to climb the damn Grand Canyon, I'm not gonna say no. He craved this, Petey.  We used to talk about the things we'd do when we grew up and he was healthy.  So if I damage anything, it'll heal."  
  
"You don't have to damage anything, you big, stubborn jerk," Petey says, giving Barnes a light shove.  "I was about to suggest that you borrow my web-shooters so you can distribute your weight better.  But, hey, thanks for implying that I'm an insensitive clod on top of being reckless with my secret identity.  It's not even noon yet and I feel totally inadequate."  
  
The Asset never hugged anybody.  At least, not in a good way.  Barnes wraps his arms around the kid.  "Sorry, punk.  And you've got nothin' to feel inadequate about.  You were a real quick-thinking hero today."  He releases Petey and ruffles the kid's hair.  "I'm going to tell you a secret that you cannot ever tell Steve.  You promise?"  
  
"S-sure."  
  
"I love Stevie and I think it's great that he's strong and healthy now but..."  He bends down so that he's eye level with Petey.  "I kinda miss the little loudmouth whose body couldn't cash the checks that his big mouth wrote.  You're that little loudmouth to me now, just so you know.  Jesus, do you have a mouth on you sometimes."  
  
Petey blushes.  "Um..."  
  
"Bein' that Stevie was a sickly, little loudmouth, he didn't have a lot of friends," Barnes goes on wondering why someone who's been forced to have the social skills of a mannequin for the past seven decades is the one who's trying to get these two morons to relate to each other.  "Next time you're up at the Tower, watch how he awkward he is with his team.  Sure, he can lead 'em but can he relax with 'em?  He's trying to connect with you, Petey.  This trip was his idea and so was bringing you along.  And it wasn't just so I'd have my little Spidey security blanket close by.  He likes you.  He just doesn't know how to show it.  Try to make it easier for him by meeting him a little more than halfway."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
One down.  Now he just has to get the other loudmouth to fall in line so he can enjoy his first vacation ever.  
  
  
00000000000000000000  
  
  
  
 **Meanwhile in Hell's Kitchen**  
  
  
  
  
"We have company," Matt tells Jessica, pausing at the top of the stairs from his apartment to the roof and listening to each arrow rattling in the man's quiver in time with his breathing. "Clint's here."  
  
Jessica freezes.  "Clint?  As in Barton?  As in Hawkeye?  The Avenger?"  
  
"Peter knows him."  He's going to have to stop saying that.  Dr. Robinette was emphatic about Jessica creating her own memories to become her own person and not relying on the ones she inherited.  The doctor -- one of the ones on Pepper's list -- specializes in patients with identity issues.   Matt wonders if she's quietly treating Bucky Barnes or advising Steve on dealing with Barnes' recovery.  It wouldn't surprise him.  
  
"I'm not Peter!"    
  
Matt cheers inwardly.  One session with Dr. Robinette and Jessica is already taking steps to establish her identity.  He'll make note of this in the journal he's keeping at the good doctor's request.  "I'm sorry.  Would you like to go up and meet him?  I can ask him to leave, if you prefer."  
  
"Is he your friend?" Jessica asks.  
  
Now that's a good question.  Is Clint his friend?  They argue incessantly and they have almost nothing in common.  "Yes."   
  
"Okay, I'll meet him," she decides and takes a step upwards.  
  
There are a number of ways this can go and Matt is more than familiar with Clint's dubious social skills.  He knows how Clint gets along with Peter and the Avengers.   Then again, he's seen Clint and Foggy hanging out and watching various sports.  The man is confusing.  He's also loyal and decent.  With all of this in mind, Matt positions himself between Clint and Jessica and prepares to introduce them.  
  
However, he forgot that he was dealing with Clint Barton.  
  
"Spider-girl!  Look at you!" Clint exclaims.  "You're... you're..."  
  
"A girl?" Jessica suggests.  
  
"Yeah!  You're all cute and stuff.  I mean, that crazy mask covers your face and everything but I saw the footage from the Tower when you webbed Foggy to that chair."  Clint stops and catches his breath.  "So, uh, hey, I'm...uh... Uncle Clint."  
  
"Uncle?" Matt echoes.  
  
"Got a problem with that, hornhead?"   
  
"Don't call him hornhead, you big doofus," Jessica snaps.  
  
Clint snorts a laugh.  "Yeah, she's definitely your kid, Lil Devil."  
  
"Dude," Jessica protests and she sounds almost exactly like Peter Parker, "what is your deal?"  
  
"My deal," Clint repeats.  He shifts from one booted foot to the other, the leather creaking as he does and the smell of the cowhide is fresh.  New boots.  "My deal is that it's a three day weekend and the clowns at the Roxxon headquarters over on Sixth Avenue are off attending HYDRA barbecues or whatever.  I figured maybe we could get acquainted over a little B&E and see what we could turn up on their illegal cloning projects.  Unless you wanna wait for Fury to give you all the redacted and useless information you can handle."  
  
This.  This is why Matt is friends with Clint Barton.  "Stark didn't invite you out to the Hamptons?"  
  
"He did," Clint says, sounding offended.  "It's just... I hate the freakin' Hamptons.  All those phonies, you know?  Besides, I've got these new arrows I'm dying to test out.  You like arrows, Spider-girl?"  
  
"It's Spider-woman," she corrects him but there's no heat in it.  
  
Clint snorts anyway.  "Not for another couple of years, it's not, kiddo."  
  
"He grows on you," Matt promises.  
  
"Like a fungus?" Jessica asks skeptically.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
  
**Meanwhile in Midtown**  
  
  
  
"What took you so long?"  The question comes from a dark-haired girl who's a year or two older than Jessica and is wearing some kind of purple archer outfit.  Her nose is wrinkled as she greets Clint and wrinkles more when she looks at Jessica.  
  
"Blame these two," Clint says, jerking a thumb towards Jessica and Matt.  "Guys, this is Hawkeye."  
  
"I thought you were Hawkeye," Jessica says, confused.  
  
Clint shrugs. "I am.  So's she.  It's a long story."  
  
"Call me Kate," the other Hawkeye says, extending a hand towards Jessica.  "And you're what?  Spider-girl?"  
  
"Spider-woman," Jessica corrects her, not taking Kate's hand.    
  
Kate's head cocks in Jessica's direction.  "So what kept you?"  
  
"I couldn't decide what to wear."  Jessica rolls her eyes behind her mask.  
  
"Honey," Kate drawls, "please tell me that wasn't your only clean costume."  
  
"It's my *only* costume and don't call me 'honey'."  Jeez, what a loudmouth.  Matt meanwhile hasn't said a word.  Jessica doesn't blame him in the least.  
  
"We are so seeing my designer after school next week," Kate says.  "Because between that outfit and the ridiculous name --"  
  
Jessica flaps her arms in frustration.  "My name?  You're Hawkeye!  At least mine is sort of original!"  
  
"It's original in a 'Spider-man's kid sister' kind of way."  
  
"Oh my God, you're obnoxious."  
  
Kate shrugs.  "True, but my outfit is way cooler than yours.  Seriously, what school do you go to?  I can pick you up after class on Tuesday and we can get something made for you that doesn't belong on the cover of 'superhero fashion disasters'."  
  
Jessica glances over at Matt, who still isn't saying a word.  That's when she realizes he's *observing* her so he can report this whole weird thing to Dr. Robinette.   This whole weird thing, as in her first conversation with a girl.  With a girl who may or may not be a superhero like she is.  With the most annoying girl ever, who is actually kind of hot in that outfit, not that Jessica will admit it.   And, oh crap!   Clint isn't saying anything either.  He brought this girl with him so they could be what?  Friends?  Well, with a mouth like that, Kate probably doesn't have any friends besides Clint.  But oh golly geez, this is some kind of kiddie superhero playdate!!  She's going to kill Clint and if she finds out Matt was in on it, he's going to be Dead Devil.  "I'm grounded."  
  
"So what? You're a masked superhero," Kate argues.  "Go up to your room like a good little girl and sneak out the window.  The parental units will never know."  
  
"Um, my dad kind of will."  Jessica points to Matt.  "That'd be him over there."  
  
Kate's eyes go wide and then she laughs.  "Wow, you've got a crazy sense of humor, girlfriend.  Believe me, he's deffo the type to have a fantasy or two about but calling him 'daddy' isn't one of them."  
  
Matt makes a choking sound.  
  
"Yeah," Clint says, patting him on the back.  "She's always like this."  
  
"Wait, you're not kidding?  Daredevil is...?"  Kate puts her hands on her hips and frowns at Matt.  "Are you Spider-man's dad too?  Those leaked SHIELD files said he was also a kid --"  
  
"Spider-gi -- Uh, Spider-*woman* is adopted," Matt says finally.  Even though he can't see it, not just because he's blind but because of her mask, Jessica is sure he can tell she's giving him a dirty look for almost calling her Spider-girl.  "The rest, young lady, is none of your concern."  
  
"The grounding thing is.  How does a super-hero get grounded?  And are you serious?  Surely you have to make an exception because that costume you've got her running around in looks like a cheap pair of Spidey pajamas and it shows off girl parts that, I would think, responsible parent that you are, you'd want a little better concealed."  Kate finally comes up for air but then adds, "You'd have to be blind to want your kid running around dressed like that so all the sickos can perv on her."  
  
"Daredevil *is* blind, Katie," Clint says.  
  
"Oh my God, did you just -- that's his secret identity!"  Jessica buries her masked face in her gloved hand.  
  
Clint growls in frustration.  "Kate Bishop, as in Bishop Publishing.  There?  You two clowns happy now?  And notice I did not name your names."  
  
"Y-you're an *idiot*," Jessica sputters.  
  
"That's not news to any of us," Matt says.  "But do tell us, Clint, is young Kate here some underage dalliance or illegitimate spawn of yours?"  
  
"Yuck!  And no!" Kate sniffs.  "I just stole his name."  
  
"And my shtick," Clint grumbles.  
  
"And his shtick," Kate agrees.  She rubs her chin and narrows her eyes at Jessica.  "Hey, you could steal Daredevil's shtick, unless you really have spider powers."  
  
Jessica's mouth curves into a smile under her mask as she uses two fingers to silence Hawkette with a web gag.  "I really do."  
  
"You couldn't have done that sooner?" Matt asks.  
  
"You let me go out of the house looking like a superhero fashion disaster."  
  
"I'm blind, remember."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
0000000000000000000000000000

 

  
  
It takes over two hours for Steve to extricate himself from the park rangers, EMTs and autograph seekers.  He made his escape just as the reporters arrived in their helicopters, doubling back several times until he was sure he'd lost them.  Not that it matters.  He knows exactly how the media is going to spin this particular story and Peter is not going to be happy.  
  
Bucky is holding Peter's camera and taking photos as the boy does a series of acrobatic flips.  "I think I've got it this time, Petey."  
  
"Yeah?  Let's see."  Peter stops short on his way to Bucky's side when he sees Steve.  His smile fades, his shoulders slump and he looks every bit like a whipped puppy.  "How much trouble am I in?"  
  
Steve blinks, confused by Peter's reaction.  "For what?  Having the forethought to bring your gear?  Speaking of which, how in Creation did you manage to change so quickly?"  
  
"I've had plenty of practice," Peter shrugs.  He looks down at his boots.  "I've, uh, kind of learned the hard way that it's better to have a Spidey costume than not have one."  
  
"Petey's been teaching me photography," Bucky says, shooting an indecipherable look at Steve.   "He also set out some clean, dry clothes for you to change into and kept the coffee hot."  
  
"Thanks, Petey.  Uh, Peter."    
  
"Y-you can... If you want, that is.  Call me that, I mean."  
  
Steve stops with his T-shirt halfway over his head as he realizes that Bucky is right.  Peter is isn't comfortable around him.  Or, more accurately, Peter is uncomfortable around Captain America, the historical icon.  Well, he's about to get over that, isn't he?  Steve tugs off the shirt and injects a little Brooklyn into his voice, "Thanks, kid.  Listen, you're going to want to call me 'mud' when I tell you what I have to tell you."  
  
"Huh?" Peter hands Steve a clean T-shirt.  
  
"I had to come up with a credible reason why Captain America and Spider-man were both here," Steve says slowly, avoiding both Peter and Bucky's eyes as he dreads their reaction.  "So the story I gave was the first one that came to mind."  
  
"Which was?" Peter asks suspiciously.  
  
"That I've been chasing you across the country, trying to arrest you for illegal vigilante activities and you helped me with the downed plane, then got away while I was taking care of the crash survivors.  I'm sorry, Peter."  
  
Bucky doesn't say a word, just rolls his eyes at Steve with the obvious implication that Steve is an idiot.  
  
Peter moans and buries his face in both hands.  "This isn't some local story, Steve.  This is *national* news.  You get that, right?"  He looks up at Steve and shakes his head in resignation.  "No.  You don't.  You don't know anything about news cycles and how a regional stringer picks up a story that goes out on the AP wire and blows up nationally."  His eyes narrow in thought and he brightens, turning towards Bucky with a speculative look.  "Actually, I can work with that.  Bucky, my buddy, my pal, how would you like to help me make some fast cash because of Stevie-boy's big fat mouth?"  
  
Steve winces.  At least he can be happy that Peter's not as intimidated as he was by Steve just two minutes ago.  
  
Bucky grins at Steve as if he can read his mind.  Then again, Bucky could always tell exactly what Steve was thinking.  "What would you need me to do?"  
  
"Not a lot.  Other than go in and collect a paycheck when we get back to civilization.  I'll even cut you in for a percentage."  Peter rubs the back of his neck as he eyes Bucky.  "There's a wifi hot spot a little way up the trail.  I'm going to set up an e-mail account for your new alias and then I'm going to send an e-mail introducing you to Mr. Robertson, the Bugle's City Editor.  You'll be my friend who's on vacation at the Grand Canyon and who just happened to get pictures of Spidey fleeing from Captain America.  Figure I can snap a few --"  
  
"I'll snap a few," Bucky counters.  
  
"We'll both snap some," Peter relents, "and maybe get a money shot of Steve almost catching me or throttling me or something and voila, instant payday."  
  
Steve stares at them both.  "That's a little dishonest."  
  
"So's telling the world that you were tryin' to arrest Petey," Bucky counters.  "The least you could do is help the kid buy his web fluid ingredients.  That stuff's not cheap, you know."  
  
"You two are ganging up on me?" Steve asks, biting back a smile. "That's dirty pool, Buck!"  
  
"I am absolutely ganging up with the kid on you," Bucky assures him.  "Consider me his training wheels until he feels confident enough to razz you properly on his own."  
  
Peter blushes.  "Really?"  
  
"I'm tellin' you, Petey, once you get to know this punk, you'll never be intimidated by him again."    
  
"What about respect for his elders?" Steve counters.  "You and I were raised better than that."  
  
"Oh, he respects you," Bucky says.  "Don't you worry about that, Stevie.  He just needs to see you off that friggin' red, white and blue pedestal once in a while."  
  
"I really do," Peter agrees.  
  
They're ganging up on him.  Peter and Bucky are ganging up on him.  He's doomed.  



	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
  
  
"Are you plannin' on talking to Stevie at any point today, punk?"  
  
Peter snaps one last photo, finally satisfied with the perspective and the color and turns his attention to Bucky.  "That depends."  
  
"On?"  Bucky raises an eyebrow and even though his expression is carefully neutral, Peter knows that look. The man is this close to losing his patience.  
  
Then again, Peter's already lost his.  In fact, he's been seething since this early this morning, right around the time he started giving Steve the silent treatment.  He kept up the silent treatment during their entire hike and has successfully continued it to their arrival at this scenic overlook.  Peter glances at his watch.  His silent treatment has lasted an epic five hours.  "Whether or not they call off the frigging manhunt." He points as another police helicopter flies overhead, followed by three local news choppers.  "If they decide to bring in dogs ---"  
  
"Then I'll show you how to evade dogs."  There's more than a hint of exasperation in Bucky's voice.  He cuts his eyes over to Steve.  
  
Peter follows his gaze to where Steve is focused on his fourth watercolor painting of the view.  Steve has his back to both of them and Peter thinks he might be a little more focused on his art than normal.  After almost two hours of trying to get Peter to talk to him, Steve clammed up and started giving Peter the silent treatment right back.  Bucky has made no secret of the fact he thinks they're both stubborn idiots.  
  
"Get your skinny ass over there and apologize for being a stubborn little punk," Bucky orders Peter.  "You're being a brat and you know it.  Stevie apologized twice and you made four hundred bucks off his stupidity.  Let it go already."  
  
"He did let me web him in the face for that picture."  
  
"Yes, he did."  Bucky tugs the camera out of Peter's hand.  "Gimme this and you go talk to him."  
  
Peter narrows his eyes at the older man.  "You're going to take pictures of me groveling, aren't you?"  
  
"What do you think?" Bucky shrugs. "Besides, half of that four hundred was because Robertson liked two of the photos I took.  Maybe I'm a natural."  
  
"Maybe you can freelance with me."  
  
"Maybe I will."  
  
"Maybe --"  
  
"Maybe you're stalling," Bucky interrupts.  He gives Peter a shove towards Steve.  "Go talk to him."  
  
Great.  What's he supposed to say after behaving like a stubborn little punk all afternoon?  And isn't he the injured party here, anyway?  He knows Steve knows that he's coming over to apologize because they all have enhanced hearing and also because Steve's shoulders just tensed up.  
  
The painting Steve is working on is the exact view that Peter was just struggling to capture with his camera.  "Feel like talking to me instead of sulking?" Steve asks, attention still focused a little too intently on his painting.  
  
"Um..."  
  
"I'm not apologizing again."  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"I admit, it wasn't the smartest thing to say but it was the most believable.  What else could I have said?"  
  
"Anything else but what you *did* say!" Peter explodes, flapping his hands in the air in frustration.  "Have you not noticed the manhunt that's been going on all day?"  
  
Steve tugs the ballcap off his head, runs a hand through his hair and replaces it.  "Why do you think I've changed clothes twice and I'm wearing this stupid thing on my head in this heat?"  
  
"Fair enough," Peter allows, "but that's your fault.  You made it open season on Spider-man when you said you were chasing him.  Me.  Whatever.  And if Captain America thinks Spidey's a bad guy, that's... that's like every horrible thing JJ has ever said about me is true.  This isn't me being a bratty kid with hurt feelings, Steve.  This is... it's you making me into a bad guy.  All you had to do was say that we -- you and me -- were hunting some baddie instead of making me the villain.  How hard was that, Mr. Man With a Plan?"  
  
"I..."  Steve turns to him, frowns and bows his head.  "Shit.  I fucked up, didn't I?"  
  
Peter is still so ticked off that he can't even be excited about hearing Steve swear.  
  
"You can't put that genie back in the bottle either," Bucky chimes in.  "So what is it you gotta do, Stevie?"  
  
"I can't announce that Peter's an Avenger, Buck."  
  
"Why not?" Peter winces when his voice cracks.  That's why not.  Obviously.  Way to go, voice!  
  
"It's not that I don't think you can handle it," Steve says and he's using his earnest Captain America voice now.  "You can.  Mostly.  Though you're too young for some of the more... grim aspects of the job.  The problem is that the media knows you're a minor because of the leaked SHIELD files.  If I were to announce that you're an Avenger, we'd be under fire from every parents group and probably prosecuted for child endangerment by the City of New York."  
  
Whatever, Peter thinks.  He counts it as one step towards being more mature when he doesn't roll his eyes.  
  
"Well, you've gotta do something, Stevie," Bucky insists.  "The kid's reputation is shot because of you."  
  
Peter is about to fling his arms around the man in gratitude when his Spidey sense goes haywire.  His gaze swings up to the roadway above the scenic overlook where an RV appears to be having engine trouble.  It's stalled at an awkward angle, blocking traffic in both directions.  There are a group of motorcyclists coming up way too quickly.  Behind them is a tour bus.  
  
He starts stripping as he runs, leaving his clothes in a trail behind him.  By the time he hears Steve react, his web shooters are in place and he's tugging his mask down.  And Bucky mocked his cargo pants and over-sized T-shirt.  Ha!  
  
Peter is too late to stop the first two motorcyclists from crashing into the RV but he's just in time as the bus driver slams on the brakes to avoid running over the injured motorcyclists.  The bus skids to a halt, slamming into the RV and sending it crashing through the guard rail.  
  
He snags the RV with his webs and pulls with everything he has before the RV can go more than halfway over the edge.  His arms feel like they're going to be yanked right out of their sockets but he manages to pull the heavy vehicle back onto solid ground.  Cheers erupt from the tour bus and the other bikers.  
  
"Um, thanks?"  Peter gives a little finger wave before turning his attention to the injured motorcyclists.  "Can someone call an ambulance?  These guys are hurt pretty bad."  
  
"Sure thing, Spidey!"  
  
"Oh my Lord, he's so little!"  
  
"It's Spider-man, mommy!"  
  
Peter is too busy using webbing to cover the motorcyclist's road rash to realize that the tourists aren't calling him any names other than 'hero.'    
  
Until Steve arrives.  
  
That's when all hell breaks loose.  
  
"Leave Spider-man alone!"  
  
"Get out of here, you big bully!"  
  
Various pieces of fruit and debris go flying and poor Steve didn't bring his shield on his vacation.  He does his best to duck but there's too much being hurled in his direction.  Before long, his once-white T-shirt is covered in all sorts of interesting food-based colors.  
  
Peter takes a moment to enjoy not being the bad guy for once and then high-tails it back to the scenic overlook.    
  
He laughs the entire way.  
  
  
  
  
0000000000000000000000  
  
 **Meanwhile in Midtown**  
  
  
  
"What were you thinking?"  
  
"What do you mean what was I thinking?" Clint asks, slipping the thumb drive into place and waiting for the program to get him past Roxxon's/HYDRA's security protocols so that they can see what interesting information can be gleaned from the servers.    
  
Murdock pauses in front of the floor to ceiling server stack.  "I mean, what were you thinking, bringing that Kate girl with you?  You could have mentioned that you invited your little friend along.  Jessica's not good with strangers."  
  
"And she won't be if you keep coddling her," Clint shoots back.  "Doesn't she start school next week?  How do you figure she'll deal with a school full of kids if she can't manage a one-on-one with a friendly?"  
  
"A friendly?  You think her classmates are going to be hostile?"  
  
"You're kidding me, right? Do you not remember high school?"  Clint rolls his eyes and shakes his head.  "Hell, do you not remember any of your conversations with Peter?  Kids are vicious.  Especially girls.  If Jessie there doesn't have the right color lip gloss or has last week's hair, they're gonna crucify her, no Catholic school pun intended."  
  
"I'm not coddling her," Murdock says finally and it doesn't escape Clint's notice that he's completely avoiding Clint's point about mean girls.  "I'm..."  
  
"Being protective?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"By grounding her?"  
  
"She ran off to fight Kaine by herself.  Twice."  
  
"I seem to recall you doing similar stupid stuff.  And pretty recently, too."  
  
"We're not talking about me."  
  
Clint snorts.  "Who do you think sets the example, Father of the Year?"  
  
"Which is why she's grounded," Murdock says firmly.  "And on a schedule."  
  
He bursts into laughter.  "No, you did not.  You did.  You put the Spider-clone on a schedule.  How long do you think that's going to last?"  
  
"I...  Dr. Robinette --"  
  
"Does this doctor have kids?"  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"Not the point."  Oh this is way too much fun.  It's the first time he's ever been grateful for HYDRA security protocols and the insane amount of time they take to crack.  "She's Peter.  Does Peter seem like the kind of kid that stays grounded or would let himself be scheduled down to the last second of the day when there's web-slinging to be done?"  Clint doesn't bother giving Murdock a chance to answer before answering for him.  "Of course not.  He hears a siren and off he goes.  You think your kid's any different?  I guarantee you that by the end of this little caper tonight, those two girls are going to be setting themselves up as Avengerettes or something and plotting a million ways to get around your precious schedule."  
  
Murdock's jaw clenches.  "That schedule is there for a reason.  She's got gender issues.  Identity issues --"  
  
"And you think she's going to figure out who she is in a shrink's office?"  
  
"I think," Murdock hisses, "that it's not going to do her PTSD any favors if some lunatic in a costume or, God forbid, HYDRA comes after her and I'm not there to --"  
  
"Would you listen to yourself, hornhead?" Clint leans over and sees that they've broken past the first two firewalls.  Four more to go.  "You're *smothering* the kid.  She's not a toddler.  She's a teen with *super powers* that could kick your ass and mine without working up a sweat."  
  
"Smothering?  She's been alive for less than two months and she thought she was Peter Parker half the time.  HYDRA kept her in a lab and did God knows what to her --!"  
  
Clint wonders if Murdock can tell he's smirking.  "She seems pretty okay right now."  
  
As if to prove his point, the Avengerettes storm in and it's no surprise to Clint that they're bickering.  The metaphorical apple does not fall far from the metaphorical tree.  
  
"We should blow it up," Jessica is insisting.    
  
"You want to blow up a corporate headquarters in *midtown Manhattan*?"  Kate rolls her eyes.  "Clint, tell her that's a stupid idea."  
  
 "It's a stupid idea," Clint says automatically.  "Which is not to say a small, contained explosion is out of the question.  What did you two girls find?"  
  
"We found a lab," Kate says.  "And empty lab, with empty desks, no computers, no nothing.  Not even a layer of dust and her first reaction to finding no evidence of any kind whatsoever is to blow it up."  
  
It doesn't surprise Clint in the least when Murdock's head tilts in the girls direction and his entire body tenses like a bowstring.  "Did it occur to you, Miss Bishop, that perhaps the lab was *too* clean?"  
  
"Even if it was, there's no reason to commit a felony," she counters.  "The evidence isn't there, SpiderDevils.  We need to look elsewhere.  Speaking of, how goes the hack, Hawk?"  
  
"One more firewall," Clint tells her.  He knows what's coming and since he's already spilled the beans about Murdock being blind, he decides he can go all in.  "Daredevil over there has enhanced senses.  Like super-enhanced.  So maybe the lab was clean but his super sniffer --"  
  
"I do not have a --"  
  
"Can pick up some clues about what used to be there," Clint finishes.  "You ladies want to keep an eye on things here while he performs his little circus act for me?"  
  
It doesn't surprise Clint in the least when Matt uses the one bit of sign language he knows to flip him off.

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
  
  
  
"The kid's sleeping."  
  
Steve stops in the middle of pulling out the skillet from his backpack and eyes Barnes.  "Already?  We just made camp five minutes ago."  
  
Barnes shrugs, the metal plates in his left arm whirring softly.  "He hurt his shoulders earlier."  
  
"He--? Why didn't he say anything?"  
  
"Because he's a stubborn punk, just like you." He casts an affectionate glance over at the dozing, slender form.  "Also because he's got a healing factor. The nap'll fix him right up.  And before you ask, yes, I'm sure. It's just a little muscle strain and it's been healing for a couple of hours already.  Sleep just makes the process go faster.  Don't worry about it.  One sniff of food and he'll be up and motor-mouthing like a champ."  
  
Steve chuckles.  "Then I guess we should enjoy the peace and quiet while we have it."  Barnes thinks he's almost gotten one past his best friend when Steve asks, "How is that you know so much about his healing factor?"  
  
"I live with him, remember?"    
  
"And I lived with *you*.  How bad was it?"  
  
Barnes exhales slowly and pinches the bridge of his nose.  "Before you lose your shit, bear in mind that I already lost mine so there's no point."  
  
Steve crushes the handle of the skillet.   "Buck."  
  
"A few nights ago, dumbass over there crawled in his bedroom window at three in the morning looking like..."  He closes his eyes, forces himself to be calm.  "He went up against a pro who knew what he was doing with throwing stars.  The guy found every vulnerable point in the kid's suit and went after it.  Petey was cut up but good.  Passed out on his way home.  Kept begging me not to wake his aunt or take him to the emergency room.  And for me to threaten to take him, you have some idea how bad it was."  
  
"Jesus.   He didn't say anything."  
  
"Of course he didn't because the whole thing..."  Barnes screws up his face as he repeats Petey's words verbatim, "... was a *misunderstanding*.  The guy's a new mask.  Calls himself Moon Knight.  He came to do something about the human trafficking ring Petey stumbled on and thought Petey was working for them.  Once they got past all the bloodshed, they made nice and got the job done."  
  
"Moon Knight," Steve repeats.  
  
"Dresses all in white," Barnes says wryly and adds the rest of Petey's description.  "After Labor Day."  
  
Steve's mouth twitches.  "It's not funny.  God, it's not."  
  
"It's not," Barnes agrees but his mouth is twitching too.  "So after I stitched him up and listened to him whine about how much *that* hurt the entire time, we got to talking about healing factors.  You wouldn't believe how much the kid knows about 'em.  I sure didn't and it was interesting, Stevie --"  
  
"So you gave him blood."  
  
"A few drops."  
  
"You won't let Tony or Bruce touch you --"  
  
"Petey doesn't have any hidden agendas.  He was curious and after listening to how healing factors work, I was curious too.  Anyway, he ran a few tests and it turns out we've both got increased IL-8.  Then he sulked because he didn't have the right equipment to do more tests."  
  
Steve raises an eyebrow.  "You're really okay with him doing tests?"  
  
"Yes, Stevie, I really am."  Barnes smirks at him.  "I'm also okay with him doing basic maintenance on my arm."  
  
"Buck!  Stark's been offering for months!  If something needed fixing --"  
  
"It was just a malfunctioning servo."  
  
"Just a --  Buck!  That's sophisticated technology," Steve protests.  "He's a kid --"  
  
"With a genius-level IQ."  Barnes leans forward, head canted to one side.  "He'll never tell you that.  Hell, I'm not even sure he knows.  It was in his HYDRA file."  The conversation is starting to veer into uncomfortable territory and he quickly changes the subject.  "You'd better start makin' the kid his supper before he gets cranky."  
  
Steve picks up the damaged skillet and eyes Barnes with a grin.  "Baiting the hook made him squeamish and he couldn't even look when you cleaned the trout.  Think he'll be able to eat them?"  
  
"I seem to recall you getting a little squeamish when you watched me dress that rabbit I caught in France."  Barnes returns the grin.  "You said something about Bugs Bunny and then you ate it anyway."  
  
Very few know that Steve Rogers can be a complete shit sometimes but he can. "What if I said that never happened?"  
  
"Sure it didn't, Stevie.  Keep telling yourself that."  
  
The second the trout hits the pan, Petey comes awake.  This is no surprise to Barnes who lives with the kid.  "Food?"  
  
"Remember that trout you didn't catch earlier?" Barnes reminds him.  
  
"The ones Bucky caught by cheating," Steve adds.  "Using a Ka-bar instead of a fishing pole."  
  
"You caught one, punk," Barnes shoots back.  "One lousy fish.  If it was up to you, we'd be eating bark tonight."  
  
"Should've tried catching some of that fruit they thew at you earlier, Steve," Petey adds.  "Those peaches looked delicious."  
  
Steve's head snaps up and he looks in Peter's direction.  "Son, did you just sass Captain America?"  
  
The kid looks like Steve just punched him in the gut.  "Uh... Sorry, sir?"  
  
Steve and Barnes burst into laughter.  
  
"You... you..."  Petey sputters.  Just as Barnes wonders if Petey knows he's just seen something precious, something the rest of the world will never know about Steve Rogers, the boy catches his eyes and smiles.  Yeah, he knows.  
  
"Get over here, Petey," Stevie orders.  "You couldn't catch a fish, you couldn't clean one but you can damn well learn how to cook one."  
  
"Can't be worse than Stevie's cooking," Barnes puts in.  "Besides, we all have healing factors."  
  
Steve and Petey roll their eyes, united in their sarcasm.  
  
Finally.  
  
  
  
  
000000000000000000000  
  
**Meanwhile in Midtown**  
  
  
Tension manifests a number of ways that Matt can pick up on.  There's posture, heart rate, breathing, sweat and, in Jessica's case, the pacing and the fidgeting.  "What?  I thought it would be better if we put some distance between ourselves and Team Hawkeye but if you'd prefer not to go back to the lab --"  
  
"She's right."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"This costume.  It-it's... *horrible*."  
  
"You're taking what that Kate girl said seriously?" Matt asks.  As helpful as Hawkeye can be, this is why he hates working with the man -- the endless chatter when the mission doesn't require silence.  And now Hawkeye's protege is distracting *his* protege.  Over a costume.  
  
Jessica blows out a frustrated breath, stretches the spandex and lets it go with a snap.  "She's right.  Why am I wearing a costume that *HYDRA* made for me?  Also, it kind of makes me look a little thick in the hips."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Kate said --"  
  
"You just met her."  God, is he really having this conversation?  "You don't even like her."  
  
"I might," Jessica admits sheepishly.  "A-a little."  
  
Matt's attention snaps in her direction.  "You do?"  
  
"She's the first person I've ever met who's, you know, my age," Jessica says and then mumbles under her breath, "And she's kind of hot.  In a bitchy kind of way."  Then she adds quickly, "Not that I'm into her or anything.  It's just... uh, nice to look and she know stuff about how girls should dress."  
  
"Uh..." is all Matt can manage after hearing that revelation.  
  
"I-I'd like to go with her after school next week --"  
  
"You have a schedule."  
  
"Oh my God," Jessica groans.  "The schedule.  The frigging schedule!  Is there any place on that schedule where I'm actually supposed to enjoy myself?  Or do I have to clear that with you first?  Please, Matt, can I schedule ten minutes of fun on Tuesday?"  
   
In what universe is *Clint Barton* of all people right?  Twice in one day?  And about being a responsible parent, of all things?  "We can discuss this later, Spider-wo--"  
  
"Arachne."  
  
"Arachne?"  Matt's head is reeling.  His senses are as keen as ever but the amount of *teenage girl* in this room is starting to overwhelm them.  
  
"Black Widow's already taken.  Wolf Spider is gross.  Daddy Longlegs is just... no.  And Tarantula was what they called one of the other clones.  So," she shrugs, "I'm thinking maybe Arachne.  Although it sounds like acne and the jokes would probably be awful.  So maybe not Arachne.  But something else.  Anything else."  
  
"This is what you're thinking about while we're raiding Roxxon for incriminating information?" Matt counters.  "Names and costumes?"  
  
"I've never thought about it before and now that I've started, I-I can't stop."  
  
"Jessica, sweetheart --"  
  
"Oh my God.  You did not just call me 'sweetheart'!"  She sounds absolutely scandalized at the slip of his tongue.  
  
"Focus!"  It occurs to him that this is the first time he's gone out into the field with her and that she's behaving almost exactly like Peter.  "Look around you.  What are your senses telling you about this empty lab?"  
  
"I am nobody's sweetheart," she mutters.  
  
Not at this moment she's not.  Still, Matt can't believe it when he asks, "Why does it have to be a spider-themed name?"  
  
"Because I have *spider* powers?" Jessica counters, voice dripping sarcasm.  "Although I suppose I could call myself Genderbender."  
  
"That's not even a little bit funny."  He smells blood, just trace amounts under the bleach.  What the bleach didn't erase was the stink of fear that clings to the walls and ceiling.  "Something happened here."  
  
"Of course it did and we don't have a shred of proof," she groans.  "I hate these guys so much."  
  
"We're going to find the proof --"  
  
"HYDRA owns judges and prosecutors!"  
  
"So did Fisk," Matt says firmly. "We took him down.  We will take down Roxxon."  
  
"Cut one head off," Jessica says bitterly, "two more take its place."  
  
Enhanced senses mean enhanced headaches and the one building behind Matt's eyes is shaping up to be epic.  "So what would you do?  Blow up the building?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"I should introduce you to Bucky."  
  
"Who the hell is Bucky?"  
  
"Language!" Matt scolds.  What would happen if he put Jessica in the same room with Bucky Barnes?  The two have so much in common but could they handle it?  He'll need to discuss it with Steve and Jessica's doctors.  It seems like a good idea, the mutual support they couldn't get anywhere else.  But he can't think about this now.  Not in the middle of a Roxxon/HYDRA lab.  
  
"Dad, who's Bucky?"  
  
"What?"  She called him 'dad'.  She.  Called.  Him.  Dad.  
  
"Who is Bucky?" Jessica repeats slowly.  
  
"You called me something."    
  
The scent of his shampoo wafts through the air as she tilts her head to one side.  "Uh-huh.  I called you 'dad'.  Now do you get my point about how important a name is?"  
  
"That's manipulative, Arach-- Jessica."  The headache is threatening to erupt full force now.  
  
"Did it feel weird?"  
  
"Did what feel weird?"  
  
"Me calling you dad.  Because it didn't feel as weird as I thought it might."  
  
Matt holds himself perfectly still and focuses on Jessica.  She's nervous.  Too nervous for the 'dad' to have been just a clumsy attempt at manipulation.  "It surprised me," he admits, "but it felt, uh, nice."  
  
"It did, right?"  The air ripples as she propels herself to the ceiling, mirroring another of Peter's nervous tics.   "I might do that again, if that's okay with you."  
  
"I'm okay with it," Matt answers carefully.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Okay," he repeats.  
  
"But for the record, sweetheart is off limits."  
  
Why him?  
  
  
  
0000000000000000  
  
  
  
"Full moon tonight," Bucky remarks.  
  
"It is," Steve agrees, looking up at the stars.  "Perfect night for ghost stories."  
  
Bucky picks up the cue perfectly.  "I'd like to hear the one about the black slime monster, Petey.  That's gotta be good and scary."  
  
Peter's hand shakes so hard that he nearly drops the s'more he's making into the fire.  "Yeah, how about a big fat no to that idea?"  
  
Steve gently takes the stick from Peter's hand and drapes an arm around the boy's shoulders.  "What if I show you how to throw my shield when we get back?"  
  
"Tempting, but still no."  
  
"Listen, Petey," Bucky says leaning forward.  "You can't show us a picture of you fighting a black slime monster and expect us not to want to hear the story."  
  
Peter's posture grows even stiffer and more tense but Steve doesn't relent.  He pulls Peter closer, the way he's seen Bucky do it. "Come on, Peter.  You know you can tell us --"  
  
"Wouldn't you guys rather hear about the Black Cat?  I think her super power is being a total hottie."  He throws a desperate glance at Steve.  "She's still single, by the way.  And boy, can she kiss."  
  
Bucky smirks.  "You kissed her, huh?"  
  
"She kissed me," Peter says defensively.  He sighs and slumps.  "Then she threw up on me because she figured out I was, um, a kid."  
  
It's the sight of Bucky, head thrown back and guffawing that nearly does Steve in but they agreed earlier.  Peter's carrying some heavy weight on his shoulders and this trip is as much for his benefit as for theirs.  "Come on, Petey," Steve presses.  "I've been dying to hear about the slime monster all day."  
  
The boy sighs and slumps even more.  "It's not a nice story."  
  
Bucky kneels in front of Peter, resting a hand on one slender shoulder.  "You think we don't know that, Petey?  Your Spidey stories scare the hell out of me and I'm the goddamned Winter Soldier."  
  
"Then stop asking!"  Peter launches himself up and over Bucky to stand on the other side of the fire.  He hugs himself as he stares into the flames.  "I did something I'm not proud of and somebody died.  Or maybe died.  Fury says if there's no body...  But I don't see how Eddie could have survived that.  Except, I think, he might have."  
  
Steve gets to his feet, waiting until Peter is looking at him to say, "Sounds to me like you need to get this off your chest."  
  
"I just... It's..."  The sigh seems to come from deep inside the boy.  He sinks down, draws his knees to his chest and rests his chin on them.  "It started with a box of stuff... No.  It started with me breaking up with MJ after the bridge thing.  I was miserable and I was in my basement being miserable and then there was the box of stuff.   I-it was my father's journals and files and there were some videos.  There was this one, a picnic.  My parents, Aunt May, Uncle Ben and the Brocks.  Eddie Brock, Jr. who was this kid that I played with, like every day, and  I'd forgotten all about him, but I was five years old so...  Anyway, that's how it started.  I made a copy of the tape and found Eddie.  He was studying bioengineering at ESU and we, uh, met up.  Two little orphan ghost chasers, he said.  Trying to impress our daddies.  And I guess we were."  
  
Steve settles down next to Peter and watches as Bucky does the same.  
  
"Our dads were trying to cure cancer.  You remember what the clone said, right?  That's what our parents were working on when the plane they were on went down."  Peter leans against Bucky, who slings an arm around him.  "It's official title was Project Venom, but what they called it was 'the suit.'  It was a protoplasmic medical dip that was tailored to a patient's specific DNA code.  The suit would, theoretically, take hold of a patient's biology, find out what the body needed and find a natural solution.  They'd gotten as far as Phase Two, where the suit enhanced physical strengths and abilities.  A-and then they needed funding and Roxxon stepped in and said they owned the suit and... they saw it as a weapon, not a cure."  
  
Even though Steve isn't a scientist, it's immediately clear to him that Phase Two would have been a damned good weapon, an alternative to the super soldier serum.  He exchanges looks with Bucky who nods, having reached the same conclusion.  
  
Peter sucks in a shaky breath.  "There was a sample of the dip and it was tailored to my father's DNA.  Eddie had it and he was working on it a-and I snuck in to take a sample.  I'm not proud of that.  You've gotta understand, I wasn't... I didn't.  And then I got a drop, just a drop on my skin."  
  
"Jesus," Bucky whispers. "You were the black slime monster."  
  
"Only at first," Peter says, giving him a look.  "I was twice as strong and once I got the hang of the suit, it was amazing.  I had organic webs and I was bullet proof and it was incredible.  Until it wasn't.  I almost killed a mugger."  Peter hangs his head.  "The suit needed to feed on organic matter.  It was feeding on me, eating me alive and the mugger... he was a snack.  I couldn't get the suit off and I panicked and got it off by falling off a roof and crashing through some power lines, killing it."  
  
Steve moves closer to Peter.  "I take it that wasn't the end of it?"  
  
"No.  I went to the lab to destroy the sample and Eddie found me.  We argued but he agreed that the sample had to go.  I thought *that* was the end of it."  He swallows hard.  "I forgot that when you're doing labwork, you need a control sample.  Eddie had one.  A-and he... Deliberately.  After everything I told him.  The suit nearly killed me, with my powers and he was just a guy.   Not enough to feed the suit so it... it killed people.  I didn't know that at first. I thought the first suit survived and it came looking for me.  But it was just Eddie and I... I had to electrocute this guy who was my best friend once upon a time."  He looks up at Steve, eyes wet.  "See?  I told you it wasn't a nice story."  
  
"You did," Steve agrees.  
  
"It gets better," Peter says bitterly.  "He didn't die.  Eddie went back and cleared out of his dorm room and when I went to get the control sample, Doc Connors was there.  He told me everything was gone.  The suit, the files, the notes, the samples.  All of it."  
  
Bucky's eyes narrow.  "Who is this Connors guy?"  
  
"A professor at ESU."  
  
"What more than that, Petey?"  
  
"None of your damn business!"  Both Bucky and Peter flinch at his tone.  "Sorry.  I-I'm sorry Bucky.  I just... I can't tell you that, okay?  It's... I promised him."  
  
"'S fine," Bucky says.  "It'll be even better if you make me a s'more."  
  
Steve watches as Peter puts the s'more together.  "I had an idea earlier.  I'll need to run it past Pepper but this is what I'm thinking, Peter.  Remember how I mentioned that public opinion would hurt us if I announced you were part of the team?"  
  
"Yeah?" Peter says suspiciously.  
  
"I think we can use public opinion to add you to the team.  You saw how those people reacted today.  You're not as hated as you think."  Steve grins at the memory.  "I think if Spider-man starts showing up wherever the Avengers are and helping to save the day, people are going to demand that he's part of the team, don't you?"  
  
"The Bugle won't agree," Bucky puts in, taking the s'more from Peter.  "But every other newspaper will.  Stevie'll be the bad guy for not bringing you on board."  
  
"I can be an Avenger?"  
  
"With certain rules," Steve says firmly.  "School comes first and I choose when to include you.  No arguments, no sneaking along."  
  
"What if I just happen to be on the scene?  For real, I mean?"  
  
"Then you radio me and let me know you're there."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"Now," Bucky says, finishing his s'more and winking at Steve.  "We have to figure out how I can be an Avenger, too."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
  
  
The night air is cool and the moon is high overhead.  Conversation is at a lull and that gives Peter the opportunity to breach the topic that's been on his mind.  "Okay," Peter says, cracking his knuckles.  "You two have pestered me for intensely personal and painful information during the last two days.  It's my turn to ask the questions that make grown men cry."  
  
"That sounds ominous," Steve says, lowering the bottle of beer he's drinking.  Even though it doesn't have any effect on either Steve or Bucky, they both seem to enjoy the taste.  Peter's tried exactly one sip of beer and can't see how anybody finds the taste even remotely enjoyable.  
  
Bucky narrows his eyes.  "You're treading on thin ice, you little punk."  
  
"I know," Peter agrees.  "But this... this is something where poor young me needs the benefit of your many years of wisdom and experience."  
  
"Fine," Bucky relents grudgingly.  "But you've only got yourself to blame if I have any kind of flashback and lose control."  
  
"Feeling the trust here," Peter tells him, clapping a hand to his chest.  "So much trust.   I'm overwhelmed."  He rolls his eyes.  "And I'm formally noting for the record how flashbacks and loss of control were not an issue when you made me talk about stuff."  
  
"That's because you're not the deadliest assassin in the world, punk."  
  
"True but I could be someday if I try real hard."  
  
"You'd have to get over your fear of blood first," Bucky snorts.  "And your fear of guns."  
  
Steve's lips are twitching and he quickly takes another sip of his beer to hide his reaction.  
  
"What?  I'm already known as a menace," Peter huffs, offended.  "Just ask Jolly Jonah Jameson."  
  
The American icon doubles over with laughter.    
  
Peter buries his face in his hand.  "What?  You think I couldn't be as scary as Bucky if I try real hard?"  
  
"That's not what I was laughing about, punk," Steve says, wiping at his eyes, "I just love it how Jameson rants about you and you make money off of him."  
  
"Yeah," Peter agrees with a grin, "it's pretty awesome, isn't it?"  
  
Bucky shakes his head at both of them.  "Okay, Petey, what is it you wanted to ask us?"  
  
"Um..."  Great.  He's finally got his opening and he can't form the words.  It takes a couple of tries, clearing his throat and blushing violently before he manages to say, "It's about, uh, girls."  
  
"Girls?"  Bucky's eyes go wide.  
  
"Girls," Peter confirms.  
  
"You want advice about girls?" Bucky repeats and there's more than a hint of laughter in his voice as he looks over at his best friend.  "From Steve?"  
  
"Well, yeah."  Peter blinks as he wonders what the heck is so funny about him wanting Steve's advice.  And then it hits him.  "Oh.  Uh.  Unless... Oh gee, Steve... Are you?  I always thought that was baseless speculation about the two of you but...  Um, okay.  Ixnay on the irls-gay then."  
  
"The two of us?" Steve echoes and to Peter's surprise, he seems clueless as he looks from Peter to Bucky and back again.  "What about the two of us?"  
  
Bucky chuckles and his eyes sparkle with humor.  "There are articles and books, Stevie, that suggest that you and I were -- are --  more than friends."  
  
Steve's mouth drops open.  "What?"  
  
Bucky doesn't even bother trying to keep a straight face. "Our love story is epic --"  
  
"Spanning decades and continents," Peter adds with a grin.  "Lives ruined, bloodshed.  Epic."  
  
"Oh.  My.  God."  It's Steve's turn to bury his face in his hand.  "They think that?  People *think* that?"  
  
"People wrote books about it, Stevie," Bucky tells him with more than a hint of glee in his voice.    
  
"Books," Steve repeats, lifting his head slightly.  "Actual books.  About our non-existent gay love affair."  
  
"Documentaries and a TV movie, too."  
  
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph."  Steve's head drops into his hand again.  
  
"You do make a very good looking couple," Peter says quietly.  "Magazine cover good looking, in fact."  
  
Steve's head snaps up.  "No.  We are not posing for that kind of a photograph."  
  
"Aw c'mon Stevie," Bucky chortles.  "We'd blow up the Internet and think of what we'd do for Pride."  
  
"We are not a couple," Steve repeats firmly.  "Not that I don't support same sex relationships but...  Is it at all possible for men to be friends without that assumption being made?"  
  
"Nope," Peter tells him.  "Not in this day and age."  
  
The shark-like smile Bucky sends Peter's way makes a chill run down Peter's spine.  "Well, it looks like we're a threesome now, Petey-boy.  So I guess that makes advice about girls kind of moot, huh?"  
  
Peter rolls his eyes.  "Okay, fine.  So going back to your original assertion, Bucky-boy, I'll bite.  Why is it not a good idea for me to ask Steve for advice about girls?"  
  
"Because you have more experience with girls than he does," Bucky laughs.  
  
"No way!"  
  
"Tell him, Stevie."  
  
"I didn't have a steady girl before the serum," Steve shrugs.  "As for Peggy and I... Well, there wasn't time.  And since I've been awake, there just hasn't been anybody."  He shoots a pointed look in Bucky's direction.  "Now, Buck, on the other hand, had plenty of experience.  There were a few steady girls, at least for a couple of months at a time anyway."  
  
"Wish I could remember that," Bucky sighs wistfully.  
  
Peter groans.  "Great.  Just great.  You guys suck."  
  
"What is it you wanna know, Petey?  Ask me and I'll tell you what I can," Bucky offers.  "And if this is about whether you and Mary Jane should go all the way, my advice is for you to wait until you're older."  
  
"Ugh, no!  That's not... I mean, we kind of decided that for ourselves, not that it's any of your business."  Peter can feel his cheeks burning.  "Anyway, she dumped me so that's probably not happening, like, ever."  
  
Steve straightens, his gaze latched onto Peter with laser-like intensity.  "She what?  When?"  
  
"Right after the clone thing.  She said she needed a break."  Peter makes sarcastic air quotes around the last word.  
  
"A break," Bucky repeats, disgust evident in his tone.  "What the hell is that?"  
  
"It's a synonym for dumped," Peter complains.  
  
"I don't think so," Steve disagrees.  "I think she just needs time to process everything.  Let her have her space.  The two of you...  Just, let it be."  
  
"And go out with that Kitty girl in the meantime," Bucky adds, shooting a look laden with meaning in Peter's direction.  
  
Peter blinks.  "What?"  
  
Bucky blows out a frustrated sigh, as if he can't believe how stupid Peter is.  "Why do you think she's been calling you every night?  She likes you."  
  
"B-but isn't that wrong?" Peter stammers.  "If MJ needs space wouldn't that make me the bad guy?"  
  
"What?  Your life has to go on hold while she takes her sweet time and figures out what she wants?" Bucky asks.  "Who knows how long that's going to take, Petey?  Kitty's a nice girl who isn't going to freak when weird stuff happens in your life because she deals with weird stuff too."  
  
"I guess," Peter says slowly.  "And she did mention that Bobby and Rogue are a thing now."  
  
"Oh, she mentioned that, did she, punk?"  
  
"Um, yeah?"  
  
"She wants you to ask her out, stupid."  Bucky rolls his eyes.  "You and Stevie, I swear.  Two lost causes when it comes to dames."  
  
"Buck," Steve says, voice low.  "Maybe Peter wants to wait for Mary Jane to make up her mind."  
  
"She'll make it up a hell of a lot faster when she sees Petey dating Kitty.  Just like..."  Bucky closes his eyes and snaps his fingers.  "What was her name?  I just had it.  Dark hair and curves for days.  Stevie?  Do you remember?"  
  
"Maureen?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Carol?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Angie?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Lottie?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Buck, we could run down the alphabet of girls you stepped out with," Steve sighs and rubs a hand over his eyes.  "God knows,  there were plenty of them."  
  
"But not for you?  How is that even possible?" Peter asks Steve.  
  
Steve narrows his eyes at Peter.  "How?  I was ninety five pounds, five foot four and sickly."  
  
"His excuse every time," Bucky says.  "You should set him up with that Black Cat girl."  
  
Peter nods. "I've been saying."  
  
"Pathetic, isn't it?  He's Captain America and he needs Spider-man to set him up with a dame."  
  
"Confusing is what it is," Peter agrees.  "I mean, look at him."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm sitting right here," Steve reminds them peevishly.  
  
Peter throws his head back and laughs.  Finally.  He's better than Captain America at something!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
0000000000000000000000  


 

 **Meanwhile in Midtown**  
  
  
"So?"  
  
"I-if the offer's still good, I can meet you after school on Wednesday," Jessica says.  She's blushing under her mask and is glad that Matt's probably the only one who can tell.  
  
Kate whoops and raises her hand for a high five.  "See?  I told you we'd get you paroled, chica!"  
  
Clint smirks at Matt.  "See?  And I told *you*, Lil Devil, that Spider-clo---"  
  
"Don't call her that."  
  
"Would never want to be tied down to a stupid schedule," Clint finishes.  He disconnects the thumb drive and pockets it.  "All done, Lil Devil.  Should we go back to the Tower and let JARVIS have at the data while we enjoy some snacks and bad TV?"  
  
"Nobody's there, right?" Matt asks.  "They're all at Tony's place in the Hamptons?"  
  
"Steve and Pe --"  
  
"Spider-man," Matt hisses.  "We don't out fellow masks, remember?"  
  
Clint rolls his eyes and snorts in frustration.  "Fine.  Steve, the Soldier and Spidey went camping, if you can believe it.  The Grand Canyon."  
  
Jessica's jaw drops.  The concepts 'Peter' and 'camping' are not part of the same subset.  They don't compute.  At all.  "Camping?"  
  
"Spider-man went camping with them?" Matt repeats and he actually sounds hurt.  
  
That's when it occurs to Jessica that Peter hasn't come around since she's moved in with Matt.  He hasn't called, either.  She knows how close the two were.  Are.  Were?  This is her fault.    
  
Clint seems to realize that he's stepped on a landmine.  "So anyway, we've got the place to ourselves.  If I order now, the pizza'll be there by the time we arrive."  
  
"Fantastic," Kate gushes, either oblivious to the subtext or ignoring it altogether.  "I'm starving.  Breaking and entering is hungry work."  She turns to Jessica.  "One with the works?"  
  
"Uh..."  It occurs to her that they'll have to unmask to eat pizza.  "Um...  Dad?"  
  
"You call him 'dad' now?" Clint asks.  "When did this happen?"  
  
"About twenty minutes ago," Jessica admits.  
  
"Sure.  Pizza."  Matt squares his shoulders.  "You're going to have to unmask to eat, though.  Are you okay with that?"  
  
"Kate's picking me up after school on Wednesday.  I think she kind of needs to see my face for our little outing."  She swallows.  "But, um, if you're not... if you'd rather not..."  
  
"Oh for God's sake," Clint huffs.  "You can trust her.  Nat's already met Kate and I was planning on introducing her when everyone gets back."  
  
Matt's head tilts in Kate's direction as he considers the implications of her knowing his identity.  "Fine."  
  
"Yes!"  Kate high fives Jessica again, though Jessica isn't completely sure what they're high fiving about until she shoots a look at Clint.  "Last one at the Tower does the dishes."  
  
"Aw, dishes, no."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
  
  
  
Steve is used to being the first to awaken so it comes as a surprise to discover that Peter is already up and sitting over by the water's edge, shoulders hunched.  He seems to be deep in thought.  Bucky is sound asleep, the lines on his face smooth and his expression content.  No nightmares for any of them this weekend, no PTSD attacks either.  It's a confirmation of everything he hoped this trip would accomplish.  Including getting closer to Peter.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts," Steve says, hunkering down next to Peter.  
  
Peter's gaze remains steadily fixed on the water.  "Today is Uncle Ben's birthday."  
  
Steve's arm automatically slides around the boy's slender shoulders to offer comfort, feeling a reflexive pang of loss for his own mother.    
  
"God, I miss him."    
  
"I'm sure you do."  
  
"I don't really remember my father.  It was always Uncle Ben."  There's a deep, ragged breath and then Peter leans into Steve.  "He was...  You'd have liked him, I think.  He didn't care much for people in suits or military types but..."   Peter twists around and looks up at Steve.  "I was five when my parents died.  Even before... I stayed with Aunt May and Uncle Ben a lot.  M-my parents and the Brocks owned their own lab before they sold it to Roxxon.  And one morning...  One morning, they kissed me goodbye and they never came back.  I didn't understand what gone meant until after the funeral.  A-and I just... I just shut down.  I stopped talking.  I wouldn't eat.  I barely slept and when I did I'd have nightmares and wet the bed.  It about drove Aunt May and Uncle Ben out of their minds with worry."  
  
Steve loosens his grip to look down at Peter, holding the eye contact when what he really wants to do is pull the kid closer.  
  
"I don't remember how long it went on but I think it must have been a good few weeks," Peter continues.  "What I do remember is that one morning, I was sitting up in bed when Uncle Ben came in, didn't say a word and carried me downstairs.  He sat me down on his lap in front of the TV and we spent the next two hours watching those old serials you made during the war.  We didn't say a word to each other the entire time.  Afterwards, he made me pancakes and I think I spent the rest of the day pestering him with questions about you."  Peter wipes at his eyes.  "Funny, huh?  Even before you knew me, you were looking out for me.  Uncle Ben would get a kick out of the fact we're friends now."  
  
Steve finds himself blinking back a few tears.  "God, those serials..."    
  
"It became a tradition.  We watched them every time they were on."  Peter laughs softly.  "You know, they were on TV again the other week.  Bucky and I watched them together and I think that might have been the first time he ever saw them."  
  
"Oh lord," Steve winces.  "He must have been laughing his ass off."  
  
"Only through the first one."  There's an affectionate smile on Peter's face as he look over at Bucky's slumbering form.  "After that, he was like a big kid.  You should have heard him cheer when you decked Hitler."  
  
"He didn't."  
  
"Aunt May is my witness."  Peter gnaws at his lower lip and his expression gets serious again.  "Does it bother you that he's living with me instead of you?"  
  
"I'm not going to lie to you, Peter," Steve says slowly.  "I'd love to have him with me but there's no denying how much progress he's made in the time he's been with you.  He's exceeded every expectation of the doctors that I've consulted."  
  
Peter's eyes grow wide.  "You did what?"  
  
"I needed to be sure that none of you were in any kind of danger, that the environment was the best one for him.  Pepper helped me find a team who've been monitoring Bucky's progress behind the scenes.  Sam and I keep them informed and they offer guidance that I share with Aunt May."  Steve stares out into the distance, where the sky is starting to brighten.  "Most of the guidance has been to keep doing what you're doing.  Everyone agrees that his relationship with you has been instrumental in his recovery."  
  
"I wish I could..."  Peter hangs his head.  "Matt took in the cl-- that girl.  He did it, I think, for the same reasons I took in Bucky.  And instead of doing the right thing, instead of supporting him and maybe finding out who she is, I haven't spoken to him.  Uncle Ben would be so disappointed in me."  
  
"I didn't know the man but I think he'd only be disappointed if you didn't try to fix it, don't you?" Steve asks.  "Speaking for myself, I'm proud that you've come to this on your own.  I was going to bring it up later today.  You know I don't like it when there's dissension on the team and that goes double for you and Matt because I know how close the two of you are."  
  
"What's she like?"  
  
"She's like Bucky.  Struggling to find out who she is."  
  
"Who's like me?"  Bucky squats beside them, eyes traveling slowly over Steve whose arm is still over Peter's shoulders.  
  
Steve keeps his expression carefully neutral.  "Jessica.  Peter's clone."  
  
"I want to meet her," Bucky says firmly.  
  
"You do?" Peter and Steve say at the same time.  
  
Bucky nods.  "I think I've got a better idea of what she's going through than anybody."  His jaw clenches for a fraction of a second before he locks stares with Steve.  "How's she coping?"  
  
"A day at a time," Steve tells him.  "When we get back, why don't I arrange a quiet dinner for all of us, away from the Tower?"  
  
"You'd do that?" Peter asks softly.  
  
"We're friends, Peter.  We do that kind of thing for each other."  
  
It doesn't surprise Steve when Peter hugs him.  What surprises him is how much he *melts* into that hug.  He rests his chin on top of Peter's head, the way he's seen Bucky do so many times, and sighs.  
  
His mission for this trip was to re-establish his ties with Bucky and get closer to Peter.  
  
Mission accomplished.  
  
  
  
0000000000000000  
  
**Back at the Tower**  
  
  
  
Murdock will never admit that Clint was right.  But he was.  The best thing for Jessica is Kate.  Really.   What Clint knows about psychology, he learned in SHIELD.   None of that applies to helping a freaked out clone learn to socialize.  He went with his gut and the results speak for themselves.  Actually, the results are huddled together over a StarkPad and munching on pizza.  
  
"So that's how I became Hawkeye," Kate finishes explaining.  "How did you get your powers?  Are you a mutant or something?"  
  
Murdock nearly chokes on his bite of pizza.  
  
"Forgot to include that in your cover story?" Clint whispers to him.  
  
"I'm not really sure," Jessica answers.  "They found me in the rubble after the Chitauri invasion and... "  She looks up from the StarkPad, eyes narrowed at Matt.  "That's... that's not right.  I don't really know you but Clint trusts you and I-I think I can trust you, too."  
  
Clint lays a warning hand on Murdock's arm and murmurs,  "Don't interfere, Dad-Devil."  
  
"I'm an illegal genetic clone of Spider-man."  
  
Kate's eyes go wide.  "Really?  You're Spider-man?"  
  
"No!  Th-they made me out of him.  But I'm not him."  Jessica hops to her feet, looking offended.  "I... I have his memories though and sometimes I think I'm him.  But I'm trying to be my own person."  
  
"Wow..."  Kate stands up too.  "That explains so much.  Especially your hair."  
  
"My hair?  Wh-what's wrong with --?"  
  
"How long have you been a girl?"  
  
"A few months," Jessica answers uncertainly.  
  
Kate nods sagely.  "It's a good thing you have me to help you, then, because seriously...  Blind man.  Not gonna be much help with these things."  
  
"These things?"  
  
"Clothes, hair, makeup, boys --"  
  
"About that..."  
  
"Girls?"  
  
"I-I think so."  
  
"Awesome-sauce!  There's a girl I go to school with who's out and I think you two would hit it off," Kate says.  She shoots a look towards Matt.  "I mean, it's not like you can be out and about at St. Uptight, right?"  
  
"I-I don't know," Jessica stammers.  "I haven't been there yet."  
  
"Hello, it's a Catholic school.  Uniforms.  Nuns."  Kate waves her hand dismissively.   "And they all believe that marriage is between a man and a woman.  Talk about eight hours of repression a day.  Whose genius idea was it for you to go to Catholic school anyway?"  
  
"Mine," Murdock says, teeth gritted.  "The school offers structure and a safe environment --"  
  
"Yeah, right," Kate interrupts him.  "Safe if she's hetero, which she's not.  Great job there, Dad-Devil, making your kid a closet case right off the bat."  
  
"Katie," Clint interrupts.  "Don't antagonize the Devil, okay?  You need him to like you so you and Jessie over there can hang out."  
  
Kate shrugs.  "Just saying."  
  
Murdock's head swings in Kate's direction.  "You tend to say quite a bit, don't you, young lady?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Would you say you're the product of a particularly stable and loving environment then?"  
  
Oh.  Crap.  Here it comes.  The cross-examination.  Clint tries to cease the hostilities before they can begin.  "Guys, pizza!  It's good pizza!  Murdock approved it, which means there's no freaky foreign matter --"  
  
"No," Kate snaps.  "My home life is as screwed up as everybody else's --"  
  
"Have you ever attended Catholic school?"  
  
"No, I go to Constance Billard on the Upper East Side, where we have *openly* gay, bi and trans-gender students instead of repressed --"  
  
"Isn't that the school that has a history of students with drug and alcohol problems?" Murdock is on a roll now.  "Where the student suicide rate is almost double that of any parochial or public school in the city?  Where bullying is so bad that there are anonymous blogs dedicated to wrecking the lives of students?"  
  
Aaaand there's the closing argument.  Clint buries his face in his hand.  "Katie, Murdock over there's a lawyer.  He probably researched every school in the city before deciding to send Jessie to St. Uptight."  
  
"It's Saint Edmund's," Murdock hisses, "Her name is Jessica, not Jessie.  And you're damned right I did."  
  
"Oh my God," Jessica moans and she sounds exactly like Peter Parker.  "Why is this my life?  I'm actually feeling nostalgic for the peace and quiet of the HYDRA lab."  
  
Clint winces.  
  
Jessica's gaze ticks from Matt to Kate to Clint.  "Uh... Okay, that was kind of an exaggeration. But still...  I'm okay with St. Uptight, Kate.  And Dad, I'm okay with Clint calling me Jessie.  Actually, I think I might prefer Jess.  A-and I want Kate to show me girl stuff.  Not that Pepper's not a huge help it's just... she's older."  Her chin comes up.  "And I'd like to eat my damn pizza in peace already."  
  
"Well," Clint says to Murdock, "Sounds to me like she's well on her way to being her own person.  Good luck with that, Dad-Devil."

 

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
  
**One Week Later...**  
  
  
  
  
In the end, they agree to have dinner at Matt's place because two of the six attendees are traumatized ex-HYDRA experiments that don't do well in New York City crowds.  Barnes is especially grateful for this because while he's had one on one meetings with Matt and they've fought together, this is his first time actually *socializing* with the man.  Then again, he doesn't socialize with much of anyone outside of Stevie and Petey so this is a first for him altogether.  In this new phase of his life, anyway.  
  
Foggy greets the three of them at the door with a huge smile.  "Come on in.  Matty's giving Jessica a pep talk."  He makes sarcastic air quotes around the last two words.  
  
"Go on in, punk," Barnes all but growls, shoving Petey into Matt's apartment.  To his right, Steve is as tense as Petey.  "What's your problem?"  
  
"I hate dissension on my squad."  
  
"What else is new?" Barnes grumbles.  There's a half-forgotten memory that he can't quite reach.  Shaking his head, he elbows Stevie.  "That's why we're here.  To clear the air. Relax.  Petey's a good kid.  He'll make it happen."  
  
What happens next though is completely surreal.  
  
There are twin cries of, "Oh my God!" as Peter and Jessica get their first look at one another.  
  
Peter is dressed in jeans, sneakers and a dark blue sweater.  Jessica is wearing the identical outfit.  They are staring at each other with matching open-mouthed expressions.  
  
Off to the side of the room, Foggy is whispering into Matt's ear and holding tightly to Matt's arm.  
  
"Wow," Peter says finally.  
  
"Uh, yeah," Jessica agrees.  
  
Peter looks her up and down.  "So you're me as a girl."  
  
"No," she says slowly, "I'm you in a girl's body which is as different and creepy as it sounds."  
  
They stare at each other some more.  
  
"You're me," Peter repeats finally.  
  
Jessica makes an exasperated noise.  "Yes.  I'm you.  I have your memories."  
  
"That's..."  
  
"I know!"  She throws up her hands.  "Doc Ock is a complete loon.  If we didn't believe in not killing people, I'd kill him for this.  I mean, look at me!"  
  
"I am!"  Petey throws up his hands, mirroring her posture and echoing her tone.  "It's completely nuts!  You're a girl.  Who's me.  I'm kind of having trouble wrapping my head around the whole thing.  I mean, scientifically, I get it but..."  
  
"It's wrong."  
  
"So wrong."  
  
They stare at each other again.  
  
"So, um..."  Petey looks over his shoulder at Stevie and Barnes.  "I guess you know Steve.  This is Bucky Barnes."  
  
Barnes took pains to look as unthreatening as possible, making sure that his cybernetic arm was covered by a long sleeved shirt in a neutral color.  Still, he sees the pulse in Jessica's neck jump as she focuses on him and can't possibly miss the way her entire body tenses.  "Hello."  
  
"Snowflake."  
  
Barnes flinches and he feels, rather than sees, Steve tense up beside him.    
  
"I-I'm sorry," Jessica stammers and she sounds so much like Peter that Barnes wants to grab her and hold her tightly until they're both calm.  "You're him.  The Asset.  I mean --"  
  
"I prefer Barnes now," he says quietly.  "Petey and Stevie call me Bucky and if you want, you can call me Bucky too."  
  
Across the room, Matt is perfectly still.  His head is tilted towards Barnes and there's no doubt in Barnes' mind that Matt will spring into action if he thinks there's even a remote possiblity of this girl getting hurt, even if the weapon is only a word.  Not that Matt has a chance in hell of taking Barnes, but Barnes respects that Matt would do it.  
  
"Bucky," Jessica repeats, testing out the sound of it.  "You had your own name.  I-I only had the one they gave me.  Then Matt gave me his."  
  
Barnes bends slightly so that they're eye level.  "I didn't have anything of my own for a very long time.  Not choices, not thoughts.  I was a thing."  
  
"I *am* a thing," she tells him.  "I'm this... this broken thing that Doc Ock made out of Peter just to prove he could.  O-out of spite.  A broken, messed up thing th-that's trying to be something else."  
  
"I am, too.  I used to be Bucky Barnes and then I was the Asset, the Winter Soldier," Barnes says.  "I don't remember much of either.  HYDRA wiped my memories and they're starting to come back ---"  
  
"They wanted to wipe me and give me new memories."  Jessica is staring at him, wide-eyed.  "D-did they program you, too?"  
  
Barnes keeps his focus on her, shuts out the rest of the people in the room.  "Yeah."  
  
"They programmed me to speak Russian.  Just to see if it would take."  She swallows, her throat working slowly.  "How long have you been Barnes?"  
  
"A few months.  The first couple were tough," he admits.  "It's better now.  I've got Steve, Petey and Aunt May helping me work through it."  
  
"I have Matt, Foggy and Karen," Jessica tells him.  "A-and my friend Kate."  
  
Barnes braces himself and says the thing he's been dying to say since he set eyes on the girl.  "You can have me, too.   I'm as messed up and broken as you are but if you want me..."  
  
"C-can I...?" Her hand hovers in the air, stopping inches from touching him.  "I want to..."  
  
He nods, unable to speak.  
  
Jessica's fingers touch his face lightly, tracing his features and it takes him a moment to realize this is how blind people 'see' faces.  It's something she must have learned from Matt.  She watches him warily the entire time, like he might change his mind and get dangerous.  
  
"I'm going to hug you," Barnes tells her.  "Are you ready?"  
  
"I-I think so," she says.  "I-I've never...  I don't like to be touched... But I think it'd be okay."  
  
"Tell me if it's not," he warns her, gathering her to him.  Jessica is more slender than Petey and she's trembling.  Her arms slip around him and then she buries her face against his chest.  It doesn't surprise Barnes at all when he feels her tears, hot and wet through the fabric of his henley because it's all that he can do not to cry with her.  
  
When Jessica finally pulls away, her face is wet, but she's smiling up at him.  "I think we're going to be okay, Bucky."  
  
"Yeah," he agrees.  "I do, too."  
  
  
000000000000  
  
  
  
"So, uh, I've been a lousy friend," Peter says.  
  
Matt turns his head in the boy's direction.  They're standing up on the roof, giving Bucky and Jessica some space while Steve and Foggy pick up dinner.  The fresh air and privacy was Matt's idea and it isn't like he can't keep an ear on Jessica's conversation with Bucky while he's up here. "You've been confused and afraid."  
  
"But I hurt your feelings a-and I'm sorry."  
  
"Well," Matt says slowly, "I didn't exactly consider yours when I decided to adopt your clone, did I?"  
  
"How about when I took in Bucky?  It's kind of the same thing," Peter insists.  "I was spending a lot of time with him, cutting you out, even before the whole clone fiasco.  That wasn't right."  
  
"You know that I'm not angry with you, don't you?  The only one angry with you, Peter, is you."  
  
"I'm actually more, uh, disappointed in me."  
  
"For what it's worth, Peter," Matt tells him.  "Jess couldn't have handled a visit until now."  
  
"Yeah, but I could have called you or e-mailed or something just to see how *you* were doing," Peter insists.  
  
Guilt, like fear, has a smell and a taste and it's coming off of Peter in waves that are almost overwhelming.  Forgiveness also has a smell and a taste or maybe that's just a sense memory because it always smells faintly of incense and the Church to Matt.  "You're here now and that means everything, Peter."  
  
"So, how *are* you doing, Matt?"  
  
"Adjusting."  He strains to hear it but Steve's heartbeat is too far away.  The good Thai place is six blocks from his apartment and he can only hear Steve when he's in a four block radius.  "You understand why I took Jessica in, don't you?"  
  
"Oh my God, how can you even ask that?  I mean, I probably should have offered to let her come stay with us --"  
  
"She wants her own identity," Matt interrupts gently.  "I'm doing everything I can to help her."  
  
Peter's stance shifts and the tension starts to drain out of him.  "I'm liking this side of you, Dad-Devil."  
  
"You've been talking to Clint."  
  
"Clint told Steve and Steve loved it.  He's dying to call you that."  
  
"I'd pretend to be shocked but Steve isn't as buttoned-up as he likes everyone to believe," Matt  says with a smile.  "I'm assuming you found that out on your camping trip?"  
  
"Clint told you about that?"  Peter groans.  "He's got a big mouth.  It's a shame he never actually does anything gossip worthy, aside from getting his ass kicked in his apartment building."  
  
Matt grins wickedly.  "Clint has a sidekick now.  I think she's a sidekick, anyway."  
  
"Clint has a what?"  
  
"A girl who also calls herself Hawkeye."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
"I am not."  
  
"Wow."  Peter shakes his head.  "I want details."  
  
"I want details about your camping trip," Matt counters.  "I've never gone camping."  
  
"Yeah, well, if you're gonna go camping, go with a pair of super soldiers because it is definitely not boring.  There was a plane crash, a bus crash and a manhunt," Peter tells him with a laugh.  "And people threw fruit and garbage at Steve."  
  
"They did not."  
  
"Oh, they sure did.  There's video on YouTube.  And," Peter snickers, "Bucky took a picture of me webbing Steve in the face."  
  
"You webbed Steve in the face?" Matt asks incredulously.  
  
"Best vacation ever."  
  
"I swear, I think I might be jealous."  
  
  
  
000000000000000000000000000000000000  
  
  
"Did the Thai restaurant move?" Steve asks.   He's been there twice before and it's only six blocks from Matt's apartment.  He and Foggy have walked over ten blocks.  "Foggy, what's going on?"  
  
"You caught me, Steve," Foggy says sheepishly as they stop in front of a four story apartment building and he presses one of the intercom buzzers.  "I'm up to no good but it's for *your* own good."  
  
"What?"  
  
The building's front door opens and a tall, slender blonde woman smiles up at Steve.  She has an air of efficiency and confidence that reminds him more than a little of Pepper.  "You must be Steve.  I'm Karen Page."  
  
"Um..." Steve says.    
  
"Foggy thought we should meet."  
  
"Um..."  
  
"I work with Matt and Foggy," Karen continues with a bright smile that just about knocks Steve's socks off.  Her expressive eyes are dancing with laughter and she nods towards Foggy.  "Foggy is trying to set us up."  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"I know, right?  I'm a secretary and you're, well..."  
  
"Charmed."  There.  That wasn't so hard, was it?  He can talk to dames.  He's Captain America, for God's sake.    
  
"So, I'll just go and put the order in while you two get better acquainted," Foggy says quietly and then starts walking quickly away.  He calls out over his shoulder,  "See you back at Matt's place.  Or not."  
  
"Charmed," Karen repeats.  "Know who's not charming?  Foggy.  You had no idea he was doing this, did you?"  
  
"N-no," Steve stammers like an idiot.  No.  He can do this.  He talks to Pepper and Natasha, right?  Except Pepper and Natasha never look at him the way Karen Page is looking at him and he's never thought about what it would be like to kiss either of them.  Okay, he did kiss Natasha but it was just that one time and that was to get away from HYDRA.  "I-I'm glad he did though."  
  
Karen takes his hand and gosh, but her skin is soft.  "I am, too.  Foggy said you were kind of shy and I didn't believe him because, well, you're Captain America but you really are shy, aren't you?"  
  
Steve nods.  "They also tell me I'm old-fashioned."  
  
"Old-fashioned.  Because you're from the 1940s?"  
  
"Yes."  Damn.  He's down to monosyllabic answers again.  
  
"Old-fashioned," she repeats slowly.  "So that means what?  You do things like hold doors and wait until I'm sitting down before you sit?"  
  
"Yes," Steve answers uncertainly.  
  
"What else do old-fashioned guys do, Steve?"  
  
Hell if he knows.  Bucky was the one who swept the dames off their feet and he was kind of a rogue about it sometimes.  Still, he remembers a few of Bucky's better moves.  "We bring flowers and always show our best girl a good time."  
  
"Jesus," Karen breathes.  "Hooray for old-fashioned.  I can't remember the last time a guy brought me flowers."  
  
"A pretty dame like you?  I'd bring you -- I-I mean... "  Steve groans and buries his face in his hand.  He takes a deep breath, looks up and tries again.  "I mean, I'd like to bring you flowers.  If you'd c-consider --"  
  
"Yes.  Absolutely."  She tugs his hand.  "We can talk about when and where on the way to Matt's."  
  
Steve lets her lead him and he swears he never thought he'd enjoy being ambushed but he sure does now.  
  
  
  
000000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
Mary Jane is waiting on Peter's front steps when Steve drops Bucky and Peter off.  Bucky elbows Peter and then disappears inside.    
  
"So," Mary Jane says.  
  
"So."  Peter nods towards the house.  "Enhanced hearing."  
  
"Yenta?"  
  
"What do you think?"  Peter's own hearing is also enhanced and he doesn't think he's imagining Bucky's snort of laughter.  "Uh, you wanna walk and talk?"  
  
Mary Jane doesn't need to be asked twice.  She waits until they're back at her house, sitting on her back steps to speak again.  "So."  
  
"So," Peter repeats and it's deja vu all over again.  
  
"I said I needed a break."  
  
"You did," Peter agrees.  "You said that.  And then you went out with Mark Raxton."  
  
"Spider-man and Kitty Pryde were seen swinging around together," Mary Jane shoots back.  
  
Peter groans.  "So we're fighting about who I fight crime with?"  
  
"We're not fighting.  We're talking about you being on a date with her and there just happened to be a bank robbery."  Her eyes flash at him, daring him to deny it.  
  
"Okay," Peter admits.  "We were on a date."    
  
"Do you... do you like her?"  
  
"I don't know.  We went out that one time and then we fought that gang of lunatics and that was the whole date if you want to call it that.  Mostly it was half a soda and a few French fries and then chasing guys with rocket packs around Manhattan," Peter says defensively.  "We've talked like twice but either I'm out fighting bad guys or she's out fighting bad guys or she's fighting with me because... because... Because she thinks I'm in love with you."  He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.  "And she's right.  I love you.  If I live to be a thousand, I'll never meet anyone I like or love more.  And I know that my life freaks you out.  My life freaks *me* out.  Hell, my life even freaks out Captain America, so I get that you might have some trouble --"  
  
"Peter --"  
  
" -- dealing with all the insanity --mmmppphh."  
  
Mary Jane silences him with a hand over his mouth.  "I love you, too."  
  
"Mmmmphhhmmm?"  
  
"And yes, your life freaks me out. It's a good thing we both know people who have the same problems.   You know how you went camping with Steve and Bucky?  I went to a spa with Pepper and Natasha."  She takes her hand away and gives him a look that dares him to say anything.  
  
Of course he says something.  "You went to a spa with Pepper Potts and the Black Widow?"  
  
"We got facials and massages and I got this amazing pedicure.  Like, the kind of pedicure I never dreamed existed.  I had no idea feet could be happy until I got this pedicure."  
  
"I really don't want to picture the Black Widow getting a pedicure."  
  
Mary Jane rolls her eyes.  "We had spa treatments, we steamed, we soaked and we talked about boys.  Men.  Boys *and* men, who it turns out are mostly just boys with more money and diplomas.  Did you know Natasha and Matt kind of have a thing going on?"  
  
Peter's mouth drops open.  "They do?"  
  
"Apparently so."  
  
"Wow."  He scratches the back of his neck.  "Steve met Karen tonight and they're going to the movies tomorrow, I think."  
  
"Steve Rogers and Karen Page?"  
  
"Is that any weirder than Bucky going out with Storm from the X-Men?"  
  
"When did that happen?"  
  
"Two weeks ago.  They went..."  He drops his voice into a serious tone.  "Dancing."  
  
"Oh my god, there must be something in the water."  Mary Jane shakes her head.  "Anyway, my point, other than that was the best pedicure of my life, was that weird stuff happens because of who you are and what you do.  I can choose to walk away from the best thing in my life and try to settle for less or I can hang on with both hands."  
  
"Wow, that's profound."  
  
"Pepper said that.  I made her write it down so I could memorize it."  She leans back and looks up at the stars.  "I so want to be Pepper when I grow up.  That woman is the most powerful superhero there is."  
  
"Yeah, no kidding.  I think everyone wants to be Pepper.  Even Steve."  
  
"Steve on a date," Mary Jane muses.  "Good for him."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So what?"  
  
"Are you walking away or hanging on?"  
  
"Come here, tiger, and I'll show you."  
  
  
  
  
  
The end...for now  
  



End file.
